One day I'll be published. Someday I'll never have to work in this stupid cubicle anymore and I won't have to spend an hour on the phone to realize my vietnamese client doesn't know what double-click means. One day I won't be a boring engineer, instead I'll smile and wave to the crowd while I'm signing my first book. Someday I'll finally be somebody...
One day a publisher contacted me. She wanted to publish my pieces and I accepted. This was three years ago, and I have not replied to any of her seven emails ever since.
I hate my job.
2 Comments:
Are you playing hard to get or something?! Why don’t you reply to her for crying out loud?
Well, because I'm a non-achiever?!
In reality it goes like this : On a Sunday afternoon I read a piece I'm about to send and immediately decide it's pure crap, then I change a word and read it again, then it sounds evern worse, and after a few revisions and re-readings I decide it's not original anymore hence it's worthless.
I skip three Sundays, and repeat the exact same routine on the fourth.
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