Who do I hate? Myself. Why? Because life is evil. Right now I feel like I will never be able to write professionally and I should just give up while I am ahead of the game. Not like anyone actually gets ahead, they just think they do. There is a very good reason for my pessimistic attitude. I have been working on an article for work, the same one I drug my ass out of bed early to write, all day and most of yesterday. I have spent probably close to three days writing the bloody thing. I was having a hard time writing the leed (normally spelled lead, but because journalists can't ever share we get our own spelling). So I did what I normally do in this situation, I asked for help. Then I went to lunch, cuz I was starving.
When I got back from lunch my article had a better leed, better structure and all around was just fucking better. If this was not a normal occurrence it wouldn't have bothered me, but since this happens every time I write something it makes me angry. I spent hours slaving over an article only to have it completely revamped in less than an hour. I don't even understand why they hired me. They obviously can write it by themselves, write it better and in less time, so even bother hiring someone to write for them?
It just makes me realize what utter crap my writing is.
Maybe I really do need to just stop. At least stop writing happy articles, I am pretty sure I could kick someones ass writing satire. FML.
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