My First Medium Submission
Its doomed
I have an alter ego named Mr. O. We haven’t been on best terms recently. He is a pain in the ass. Nevertheless, as soon I got back from therapy, I noticed an email from The Haven.
Mr. O did not lose any time and butted in.
Mr. O: What does it say?
Me: Nothing! Just a confirmation from The Haven. They added me.
Mr. O: Is it from Christine?
Me: Dude, it’s an automatic email.
Mr. O: How do you know?
Me: Hello? I am a software engineer, remember! I know how this works.
Mr. O: But, what if you are wrong?
Me: So, you think that there is an actual human who sent this. Not everybody is jobless like you.
Mr. O: Don’t be an asshole. BTW, are you serious about this writing stuff?
Me: Yes, I am.
Mr. O: You already write emails all day long and, now this. Loser!
Me: Shut the fuck up. Go away. I am already confused about which one to submit. It is my first submission ever. I want it to be good.
Mr. O: Submit all of them. Who cares? She is going to reject them anyhow. You suck.
Me: I can’t, only one submission at a time.
Mr. O: Pricks. Do their pompous asses take an hour to read a 3–4 minute article? Hey, use that. It’s funny.
Me: You are hopeless. I am not the only one who is submitting. There are probably thousands.
Mr. O: “Teri jaat ka paida maroon” (loosely translated as I will vanquish your tribe). How many dumb fucks like you are there?
Me: Why can’t you leave me alone?
Mr. O: Gosh, what is your problem? I am just trying to help.
Me: Oh! are you? Really?
Mr. O: OK, OK. Peace! I think you should submit that democracy piece.
Me: No, I still have to refine that one. I want to submit something light and simple.
Mr. O: How about that flowery shit?
Me: I don’t know. Isn’t it a tad childish?
Mr. O: Ho Ho Ho! Someone doesn’t want to come as a child to Christine.
Me: Dude, grow up. Are you insane? That’s the editor.
Mr. O: What! It’s you who have been reading her shit for two nights straight. Should I tell Sonia?
Me: You disgust me! I am new at this. She is the best there is. I am trying to learn.
Mr. O: I see what you are doing.
Me: And what is it that your wise ass thinks I am doing?
Mr. O: Dude, you are sucking up to her. So, she accepts your article.
Me: Oh please, I don’t care if it gets rejected. Maybe it goes to Terry. Who knows?
Mr. O: Impressive. Reverse psychology, huh! I am rubbing off on you.
Me: Ha! It’s enough. I am just going to submit this damn thing itself.
Mr. O: Wait, man. It’s rubbish.
Me: Done. I submitted. I have to speak to the offshore team, anyhow.
Mr. O: Can we talk about today’s therapy session?
Me: Get the fuck off!
Jokes apart, don’t listen to your Mr. O. Be in charge. Best!
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