So my husband rocks. Do you know why? Because not only is he my biggest fan, he’s the president of my fan club.
Just kidding. I don’t have a fan club.
He truly IS my biggest fan and he supports me 100%. He believes in me when even I don’t believe in me. He is incredible.
When I hit the Top 55, guess what he did? He sent me flowers. Really gorgeous ones, too. I mean…LOOK:
They smelled really good too. I think he sent them because I burst into tears like a weakling when I called to tell him I’d made the cut.
Fast forward to a week later and guess what? I made the Top 25. He sent roses.
Again, I think he sent them because I, again, burst into tears like a dumb girl when I called to tell him I’d made it into the Top 25.
Here’s the thing, though. Not many people at the office know I’m a writer. Nor do they know what kind of writer or that I’m in this contest. So when people came by my office and asked what the roses were for, I’d smile sweetly and say, “Oh…Just cause.”
Because who wants to explain the whole story to someone who is practically a stranger? Hey, I learned my lesson about telling people at work about writing. Some get it and think you’re a rock star. Some think you have this weird sexual private life. So yeah. I just keep it on the way down low.
Besides, I’d rather they think my husband is the rock star. Cuz he is–I couldn’t do this writing gig without him.