Once upon a time

Once upon a time I wanted to be a teacher.
I love kids (even when I was one)
I would go across the street and play with my little neighbor FOR FREE.
How psyched was that Mother?

And then one day I couldn't pass Statistics.
Because apparently Statistics is very important in becoming a preschool teacher.

So I didn't become a teacher.

But I am now 51 and a wanna be writer.
And I guess I always knew I wanted to be a writer because when I was 10 my Mom got me a diary.

You know the pleather pink kind with a brass lock and key (because it clearly needed to be locked so I could hide my thoughts about Andy Gibb and Shaun Cassidy)

And that was when I realized I could write down all my inner thoughts
and observations
and no one judged.
Because it was under lock and key.

I continued to journal throughout highschool and college.
And beyond.

Boyfriends were the main topic but as I dropped the boyfriends and inherited the husband and grew the kids; topics changed.

Infertility to potty training to mom groups.
Breast cancer to teenage angst.
I think it
I write it.

Typing is easier and quicker but part of me misses my pen, paper, and pleather.
With lock and key.
Because not all is intended for the public eyes.

So my dream is to be a writer.
Published and all.
With my own cover

Help me out village.
I'm ready to get started

because I need to stop watching Hallmark Channel movies