Constructive criticism

Today I’m grateful for the distractions that have kept me from thinking about all the constructive criticism I got in class today. It was the last day of one of my novel writing classes. I got my final assignment, a large excerpt, back. Constructive criticism is useful, but it’s still criticism and today it’s drained me. I’m feeling wobbly – barely holding back tears and self-doubt. I was pleased with the piece I handed in; I thought it was working pretty well; I’m dismayed and overwhelmed at how much still needs to be done with it. The distractions that have got me through the afternoon so I didn’t lose it and bawl like a baby in public were: work that I enjoy; beautiful patterns from shadows on the sidewalk while walking home; my silly cat peering at me through the bush in my front yard when I got home; tasty, gooey Danish feta on my salad; a warm fire and clean sheets. I guess nothing worth doing is easy, but tonight I’m too depleted to embrace that truth.