Cheese in the hour of rot.

I’m coming across a bit too self-aggrandizing, given that my last post was about this self-same issue but I’m going to toot my own horn a bit again anyways. Bet you didn’t know I could do that, did you?

Today, my copy of Shroud 7 was waiting for me when I got home from yelling at, and being yelled at by, the screeching, mindless, post-Lovecraftian insanity that we call middle school students. Now, I’ve seen my name in print before, sometimes even without paying for it, but this time is special for some unnamed reason. Maybe it’s because it is in a successful publication this time. Maybe it is just the glossy cover. Maybe I’ve invested much more worth into it than is appropriate. But I’m happy for the moment and everyone I know will get very sick of seeing the damn thing real soon. Then I’ll show it to them once more.

I’ve been stressed out over money, annoyed over the fact that I can’t seem to get off of my ass and push my career farther and way too tired for all of this shit. But for the moment, life is kinda pretty and nice. Now I just need a couple rejection letters for the stuff I intend to send out in January to knock my ass back down to earth.