The Real Truth

Mostly I hang out with other writers or people who absolutely don’t care that I’m a writer. (I’m looking at you, Dad.) But occasionally I find myself in the company of someone who thinks I am simply fantastic for no other reason than there are books published with my name on them.

It inflates my ego more than a summer supply of beach toys.

But that doesn’t last long, for I know the truth about my “glamorous writer’s life.”

For instance, I know that sometimes I must hand-deliver a sandwich bag full of dog poo to the vet’s office.

And that is not a glamorous dog I own, either. Trust me.

              

2 thoughts on “The Real Truth

  1. Donna Ross

    We always laughed when folks brought a “sandwich bag full of dog poo” to the vet. We would usually tell them that the microscope isn’t THAT big!

    Reply

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