I have a hater. I have a hater with a big name and a big network. She hated my work, which was everything she instructed me to do. Or maybe her colleague and she instructed me to do. Thing is, I don't know why she has to be nasty and all the while I am her fan. That last bit she doesn't know. I understand she feels the world is on her shoulders, because I feel the world is on mine too. She didn't have to be nasty, but she was.
It's not surprising the rest of those who know think I am a pushover simply because I laugh it off. I laugh it off because haters are amusing. Just ask Mich Dulce, whose friend is my hater. Okay?
When you get a shitload of things to do and a paycheck that doesn't even reflect your stress, that's when you should get nasty. I have a shitload of things to deal with and a paycheck that doesn't even reflect the world on my shoulders, yet this blog post is all I can give you.
I love your style.
I get where you're coming from.
I'm still your fan.
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