I have something I want to rant about, but to be perfectly honest, I just kind of don’t either. On the pages of my life, I want to shrug it off and put it behind me and have it be so damned miniscule, that it won’t ever matter. Remember that day that you didn’t even get an interview and where turned down for the job because of some dumb HR thing – nope I don’t remember it, because it was so damned small and unimportant. I want it to be like sand at the beach, such a small grain in the whole that it doesn’t really even matter. I want my life to be books and writing, and knitting and tea, and dogs and family. I want it to be something creative, and not what I am currently doing. So instead of getting hung up on this thing, that will be nothing to me looking back. It won’t even be a regret, because I will have other things, more awesome things, that this can never compare to. See that, it’s my mountain. You know what that was, a speck of sand on the way to said mountain.
Pardon me while I keep moving towards my mountain. I have a book to write.