In the literary world, I'm the equivalent of a Big Mac and Fries...

I stole that from Stephen King... so does that make me the equivalent of a stolen McDonalds crap-sandwich? Perhaps.

'Cause this guilt is following me around. Who knew just the conscious admittal of not writing could cause me the same feeling I got when I decided to move back to Florida and didn't have the nerve to tell my sister-my roommate-my best friend, that I was moving 2,400 miles away. I received an e-mail today from a good friend I took creative writing classes with while in college. I think we both could agree that it has been over a year since we've graduated, and neither of us have gone starry-eyed at the perks the life of a writer offers. (Though, granted, I haven't been working very hard on my writing recently. And if growing up in the Midwest has taught me anything, it taught me the only way you can go anywhere in life is through hard work. Which, of course, sucks.)

But back to this guilt. Oh, guilt, what an old friend.

I mean, I can't even get off my butt to take the GRE. Never mind that I'm petrified of the analogies portion-- it's the $100 to take a test that will tell me I'm better at math than English that really hurts. (And then I take whatever shred of confidence I have left to mail my graduate applications... to English programs... )

There's a very annoying little voice in the back of my head telling me to get my BFA and write. To shake my fist at the universe's sick joke that says a shoe salesman makes more than a writer. (If you ask me, Adrienne Rich should be making as much as a CEO, and the same goes for Barbara Kingsolver, Kim Addonizio, and Toni Morrison.)

I'm currently suffocating that little voice for my vain need of new shoes, airplane tickets, and nightly trips to the grocery store.

I enjoy my fresh produce. It's too bad a few tomatoes and asparagus cost more than a Big Mac and fries.

So this little tomato is going to remain optimistic. Perhaps a little hard work is in order to grow... to be worth more per pound.

And this should be your new hero: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10853582