“Where do you work?”
It’s a question that still makes me feel a little weird.
Probably because I have to explain it to most people.
“Well. I do. From home. I have a blog. A few sites that keep me busy.”
I see the look.
You play on the Internet. How nice. I have a real job.
I don’t even know that she knows it’s there, but it is.
My mom had it.
Slightly different though.
Oh sweet love of Bob, tell me she’s not running a porn site now!
I love writing this site.
Even if it was just me and my mom reading this not-porn.
But I’m glad you’re here too.
I don’t tell you enough.
When I came home from the hospital and decided to keep writing this story, I had to do it for myself.
But every word written with one hand.
Every hard truth shared.
Every funny that you GOT.
You were part of the process.
An important part.