My poor, lonely, hardworking, neglected newlywedded husband. Even as I type this, he sits patiently beside me, all the while knowing we probably won't say much to each other tonight. We probably won't have any encounters anytime soon.
School is really leaving me pressed for time. I also, in addition to the two jobs I am currently working, have received an opportunity to freelance write. I was really excited the day I opened the email, I believe it was Tuesday morning. I sat at the computer and saw that the editor from a local newspaper had responded, saying she was willing to "give [me] a try." She drew up a freelance contract, and it is in the mail. Although I told her I have never done anything like this before, she does not seem to be too concerned. I have been only in email contact with her, I do not even know what this woman's voice sounds like. I hate to admit it, but I am already somewhat regretting this. Here are my list of reasons (this is something I should not do, I know....)
1). It is more of a reporting job, and I am not interested in journalism at all. Aside from the fact that I feel it will limit my freedom, I know that many journalists get into PR, and although I know I would neverdo that, I really do not want to head down the same/similar path.
2). I do not live in the town for this publication, thus I am unfamiliar with events, people and places.
3). It does not pay much. At all. Nothing. Well, something, but might as well be nothing.
4). I do not have time to attend events, ask questions, and report. I am a writer, not a reporter. This is not meant to devalue reporters, by any means. They have a tough, cut-throat, demanding job. But I hope they could admit that writing and reporting are different.
5). I have not experience, no clue, and the editor is leaving it up to me to figure it out.
I should be grateful for this opportunity, and I am.... Or I would be under different circumstances, ie., it was a chance to write what I want to write. Personal essays, columns, opinions, etc. I am going to go and cover a story at a nursing home type of place. (Why I keep encountering elderly people, I can not explain.) I am only going to contribute monthly, and who knows how long this will last. I am just stressing everything about it right now: the newsness, the ambiguity, the stress, the time constraint, the lack of experience. (I know, this will build on my experience.)
A fellow student mentioned in class the other day that he has a book waiting to be published. Although I have yet to put together all my projects and ideas I have in a ready-for-publication manner, I am still jealous, and feeling sorry for myself. I have got to do this. I have to write full time. This is my passion, my dream. I just don't know the "how" right now.
What I do know is that my gift from the people, the virus or whatever that caused me to endure laryngitis; my hectic school and work schedule; and my tendency to take on more obligations that I should is preventing me the most important person in my world. He has been patient, kind, considerate, loving, understanding, everything. And I know why, it is because he truly believes in me and knows that someday it will all be worth it.
He is my everything, and he is more than I need.
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