I am just now working on finishing up things for both magazines and have gotten to the inane little things that happen monthly. I remember at one point during grad school having an argument with my mother about why I chose literature. I proudly yelled at her, "I'm not getting an M.A. to sit in a cubicle." Oh the irony.
Some days I feel like I'm six again, and playing office with my sister. We amassed a stash of office supplies from my grandfather and father. I'd pretend to fill out forms we'd made up and answer silly phone calls. I'd type up nonsense and file it away.
Today it feels the same. PR people calling and leaving messages. Ad reps asking me to fix things for their clients or not sending in the right material. My soul dying a bit each time I say "Webinar."
But no worries. It will all start over again next month.
