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July 3, 2012
My friends calls, asks me what I'm doing. I tell her I'm writing. She doesn't say anything except "Oh," then tells me about her day, all the things she's been doing or not doing, the important mother things that take up all her time and keep her from indulging in "little hobbies," and I get the feeling that she thinks my writing is just that--a little, insignificant nothing that I waste time on, time that would be better spent in cleaning the bathtub or mopping the floor or sipping coffee while waxing eloquent about all my more "important" accomplishments.