I'm a twentysomething writer and editor living out my dream
one day • one picture • one avenue • one story at a time.
This is where I overshare and constantly write tiny love letters to New York.
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Today was one of those days where I REALLY felt like a grown up. I stayed at the office until after 7 working on a manuscript for a big project, and then went to the gym for a solid 90 minutes. I didn’t get home until 9ish, and it (surprisingly) felt really really really good. I’m not sure why this makes me feel grown up…maybe I just equate accomplishment and long hours with maturity and success? As much as I love rushing home to gossip with Whit or going to happy hour, finishing a project and getting exercise just feels SO much more rewarding. Who woulda thunk it?!
And speaking of productivity, my roommate is officially employed full-time as an editor over at MollyGood. And thank God, because now she can stop finding adult gigs on Craigslist…
