I'm dragging Herb Smiley out of the closet for my Advanced Fiction Writing course. I stuffed him in there shortly after I started my new job about 15 months ago.
I like ol' Herb. I really missed him and his crazy mother. He's a nice guy and I'd like to see him make something of himself. Or to be more accurate: I'd like to see me make something of himself.
I thought I'd have time and energy with the new job to hang out more with my fictional friends, but, about 14 months ago, this job started sucking the life out of me. I like working. Why do I hate jobs?
Fictional friends are better than no friends at all.
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