Now, there are many reasons I became a writer. I'm not tall enough to play in the WNBA. Also, I lack athletic skills of any kind. I'm wasn't trained in woodworking. I find physics makes my brain hurt. If I'm around children for extended periods of time, someone gets hurt. Usually not me. You can see how writing and editing quickly became one of my few remaining career paths. But really, what sealed the whole "sitting in a room with a computer and nothing else but my favorite red pen" thing was my ability to not, you know, hang out with other people. Don't get me wrong: I like people. Wait, no, that's not right. I don't like people. That's why I'm a writer! I don't like to make small talk. I don't want to get to know you. I most certainly do not, under any circumstances, want to schmooze. And yet -- that's what I did for several hours last night. Alas, even writer/editors do not exist in a vacuum, and sometimes we must voyage out into the world and see what's what.
And all I can say is: Go back.
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