It’s funny. I’ve always thought I was wildly hilarious. I thought my brain was so awesome and I thought I was so smart (and such an awesome writer).
Well today I fell from grace.
I got a paper back that was bleeding in red ink. My sentences were torn to shreds and my word use was criticized. This was finally the professor who didn’t get me.
And for about two seconds (okay or maybe two hours) I was deeply wounded. And then I realized that this was the humbling experience to bruise my ego. That knocked me off the high horse I didn’t know I was on until I hit the cold, hard ground. And truthfully this is probably just the beginning. But i think I handle rejection well (nearly every boy I’ve ever liked has rejected me (and the cheerleading squad…twice(and okay just about everything i applied for at my old university (and OKAY every single literary magazine I sent my sort story to (and okay we get it right?))))).
And let me tell you the first thing I wanted to do was tweet. I wanted to tell the world what had just happened in a hilariously sarcastic tweet but then I remembered that I had deactivated my Twitter (and then I wanted to tell a friend…..but then I realized I had no friends, but that’s another story) and so I wondered why it was that I have so many brilliant thoughts at the time when I have no one to share it with and I realized I have all 25 of my followers (I am hopefully assuming that I get read by my followers…if you do read, then awesomesauce!) to share with! So there it was.
And another thing I wondered today was why Tumblr people say morning sex is the best sex. What about morning breath? (Of course maybe morning breath isn’t factored in when it comes to that, but then again what does a nineteen year old virgin know?)
And there was my thought I had just now. The painful reoccurring thought about all the lives going on and existing right now that I don’t even know about!
For example, right now, Miley Cyrus likely in bed on her million dollar sheets counting her money. And well, I’m laying in my bed eating cookies while hoping I don’t choke on my milk and talking about it.
There’s some food for thought.