(i don’t know why. i just feel it in my bones.)
I definitely didn’t get into grad school. A panel of important people read my play about monsters working at a doughnut shop and they kindly said, “Oh, no, thank you.”
And I didn’t get that job that would have paid so much more money.
And I wasn’t even invited to audition for the “all-female” Shakespeare play, because I guess the patriarchy doesn’t hurt non-binary actors too?
And, while we’re at it, I didn’t get to be on the 8th grade basketball team way back when.
And… it all has to be okay, doesn’t it? Everyone says to save your rejection letters and I think I get where that comes from, but I do not seek to be a collection of wounds.
The point, I think, is this: All those things told me “no” and I bought the gay lemon cookie this morning anyway. I’m down, but I’m not so out that I can deny myself the springtime joy of an iced lemon treat.
(My personal Renaissance will be both slutty and citrusy. Prepare thyself accordingly.)
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Thanks for being here. For reading and engaging. I don’t always know where we’re headed, but I’m glad we’re going there together.