5th
Career pancake flattener
I’m playing phone tag with my lit agent. I feel like I can’t move forward without some editorial guidance at this point. When I’m not writing it feels like I’ve been reduced to “just a bartender,” and now that I’m closer to thirty than I am to twenty that doesn’t feel like enough for me. I’m scared that’s all I’ll ever be. This is how Women’s lib has screwed us. Now we have to have Careers with a capital C, as well as be pretty, thin, not slutty and get married and have babies. We’re taught that how we pay our rent is who we are. Doctor, Lawyer, Chef, Actress, Bottle Waitress, Bartender, Stylist, Barista, Fireman or what have you. Being able to say I’m a writer as well as a bartender has given me a sense of self worth. “Hey I’m not just a vodka soda monkey with big tits, I’m creative and intelligent and successful in a legitimate field.” I know its all bullshit and I’m buying into some Capitalist American Dream load of crap, but I would really just like to get that man on the phone.
