Necklace: Anthro
Shirt: JCPenney
Belt: Target
Jeans: American Eagle
Flats: Target
I have a problem. It's embarrassing and I can't help it but admitting I have a problem is nine tenths of the law.
I love proofreading.
OK I SAID IT. Phew, it feels good to get that off my shoulders. No judgment zone! & I'm totally serious, this is no April Fool's joke. My golden age was in college, when friends would call or message me in the middle of the night, pleading to have me read their papers. I was there, armed with a red pencil and a flat surface, ready and willing to take on the challenge, from the short one page response papers to the fifty page theses. I removed comma splices. I altered dependent clauses. The passive voice feared me.
It's been a long few years since the final paper was proofread (get it?) and my red pencils and pens have been so lonely. So can you blame me when a college student came up to me tonight while I was at work and asked kindly if I'd proofread his paper? It's only four pages and it's just for an English 102 class, and it's my first paper with this professor and I want to make a good impression. It took all I had not to leap over my desk and hug him. I relished. I basked. I beamed. And then it was over, and now I'm yearning for another paper to read, another grant application to edit, just one more article to check for correct use of semicolons.
Watch for me next week on Intervention.
