Gotcha!

You know when you're walking out of a store on a windy day, and your receipt that you totally need blows away?

Yeah. I hate that.

So, knowing full-well that you look like a total jackass, you run across the parking lot all flailing limbs and tripping over shopping bags (what were you thinking wearing heels, anyway?), hair blowing in your face trying to get one of your feet to land on top of the receipt. There's anxiety lightly gripping (or totally asphyxiating) in your chest, until you manage to grab it.

Enter sigh of relief and cue victory dance. Am I right? You know I am.

I had that feeling today, after months and years of feeling that moment of possible loss. I saw my name, all glossy and pretty, in the byline of a magazine. A real one. A real publication.

I'm a real writer.

Anyone who knows me knows writing is kind of my thing. My passion. My outlet. My first love. My dream.

It got away once though, blowing across the parking lot  of life much like the Future Shop receipt from when I bought my iPad... except that I didn't let my dream blow away so easily. I chased it, in everything from fat pants to skinny jeans, running shoes to leopard print wedge booties until I caught it.

Today, I got to hold that dream in my hands and it felt bigger than it ever looked, and better than I could have imagined.

I'm a real writer.

Whatever your dream is, don't stop chasing it. You're a step or two away from getting one of those fabulously-shoed feet or perfectly manicured hands catching it.