there was a moment today that caught me off guard and made me stop and ponder my life.
a little girl excitedly reading a part of her new "chapter book" she had written to her mom.
18 years ago...that little girl was me. so excited as i was still learning how to write, misspelling every other word...but excited nonetheless over the long chapter book i had written (that looking back on it now is only a few pages of notebook paper written on in big letters). stories of princesses, puppies and teeth. bound and illustrated. mysteries and love stories. my shelves are filled with notebooks overflowing with words scribbled in pencil and pen.
and here i am. 18 years later. sitting at a computer doing work that isn't very creative and certainly isn't those exciting stories of years ago. i'm no longer proudly running around saying...
"Like what I have written so far?"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
the same EXACT thing happened to me around the beginning of the school year.
ReplyDeletesad. :(