I remember one woman said her socks had healthy pink lungs stitched on them, while another's were striped monstrosities--but she'd stand out because of her crazy ugly socks from now on, not the cloud of nasty smoke she used to carry around her.
Day 10 was the day a quitter got his or her big girl/boy pants. So I guess that means that today I get my project pants. I am too tired to describe them, so use your imagination.
This evening I went to a writing workshop led by Amy Silverman, managing editor of the Phoenix New Times. Tomorrow I will write more about it, but tonight a couple of quick observations:
- I am so goddamn judgemental.
- Any prompt can be a good prompt. Except maybe "I believe..." (which only makes me sing Whitney Houston in my mind.)
- Two hours isn't enough time to learn a thing and then practice what you've learned.
- Why does there always have to be one total attention hog in every single class? (see also item #1)
- Teaching takes patience.
2773 days, 18 hours, 16 minutes, and 35 seconds quit.