And on the seventh day, she rested.

Just kidding!

I was hard at work today, and I came across something I wanted to share.

I was reading one of my favorite blogs, the wonderful Pop Candy, from USA Today. A post brought to my attention another blog, Why We Write, which, according to the site, is "a series of essays by prominent - and not so prominent - TV and film writers … and by people like you: writers and those who hope someday to call themselves writers. Conceived by Charlie Craig and Thania St. John, the campaign hopes to inspire and inform all writers during the strike and, perhaps, beyond."

Today's installment (No. 11) is by Bill Lawrence, the creator of "Scrubs" -- my favorite show of the current decade. Not only is his essay funny, but I could definitely relate to it.

He writes: "I don’t write because I couldn’t do anything else. I’m a bright guy, I could hold down a number of jobs. I could run a hat shop. I don’t love writing. Nobody does -- it’s worse than fishing. Anyone that tells you that he loves to write has either never written anything or is, in fact, an alien."

As a journalist, I totally get that. Writing, to me, is something I have to force myself to do. I love the information gathering, but when it comes time to type it all up and submit my piece, I have issues. Don't get me wrong: I love to see my byline. (Of course, as I am a copy editor, I hope it's spelled correctly.) And, as Bill Lawrence says: "I write because as horrible as writing is, having written something is pure pleasure. I like that my parents have something to talk to strangers about."

And there you have it: He likes that his parents are proud of him. Isn't that what we all want?