A New Challenge for a New Year

I did not exactly succeed at the November blog challenge with Mary, but I also did not exactly fail. I did write. I wrote like 50% of the days I was supposed to. And I learned from my sorta success slash sorta failure, a few lessons for my next writing challenge.

I learned that I do enjoy writing in line with a blog challenge.
I learned that I like writing more, knowing that Mary is also writing and going to post something really funny.
I learned that I do not have time to write every single day.
I learned that I don't always feel like writing.
I learned that on the weekends, I'd rather cuddle than write a blog post.

With that, I have found a new writing challenge to take on: 50 Questions to Ask a Girl if You Really Want to Know Her.

50 Questions, 50 topics.
This time, though...no 50 day deadline to answer all 50. Because I know I don't like to write on the weekends and because I know I have days where I give no fucks, I'm setting my goal to answer these 50 questions over the next 100 days. That's much more manageable and realistic.

So, moving right along.

Day One: When you were younger, what did you think you were going to be when you grew up?

When I was really little, like five-year-old little, I thought I could be Clyde Drexler. I mean, sure, I was a tiny little white girl...what could possibly stop me from being a six-plus foot tall black man?? Dream big, as they say.

I wanted to be Clyde Drexler after meeting him at school. My kindergarden class won a reading contest that the Blazers were involved in, and because we won, he came to school. This was my first dose of stardom and part of me remembers it being a huge deal.

Get it, huge, because he is huge?

Anyway, my first moment of hero worship, and at five, that clearly became a dream to BE him.

After my mom shot me down on that dream, I decided I wanted to be an elementary school librarian. Why? Because I love books, especially children's books.

Looking back now, my overall disdain for small children was probably a hindrance here, but what did I know about all that way back then? Now, I cannot fathom the thought of being a teacher - my cousin is a teacher, and just standing next to her makes me tired. What a thankless and underpaid profession, where you are way too responsible for the well-being of a new generation of humans.

Too. Much. Pressure.

And so, like everyone else in property management, I got into property management on accident.

And the joke is on me, because it is literally the equivalent of being responsible for small children.
Except the children are adults.
Who instead of refusing to eat their lunch, are refusing to pay their rent.
And instead of being thankless and underpaid...oh wait, no, that's the same.