Well grad school is taking its toll. The hw is getting longer and more demanding and the professors are now ready to assume at least half the class isn’t a bunch of idiots. So editing has had to take more and more of a back seat, which stinks because I was starting to get into a groove with Something About Maude. I really made some good advancements on my protagonist’s story and the side stories of supporting characters to flesh them out.

It sucks when your passion has to be put on hold for the practical parts of life. Like at work, I’m obviously there because I need money to live, but it’s tough to forget about writing, the one thing that just always seems to make sense to me; the one thing that I always know ,or believe to know what the next step is.

Same with school; I may be researching ETFs and Mutual Funds for foreign countries but in the back of my head I am playing with ideas for stories I think I can squeeze out by midnight. Is it wrong to feel like a child over this? Is it wrong to feel sort of stupid to struggle to make time for my passion?

I’m not sure if growing up actually happens. I am in my mid-twenties and most of the time I feel like a kid pretending to be an adult. With so many things going on in my life I almost feel like I need my parents to swoop in once again and tell me what to do.

I can’t be alone with this. I immediately think of Aubrey Plaza from parks and rec saying no one knows what they’re doing they just pretend to until they figure it out. Does anyone else feel this way?