I am still unemployed. I am moving from fear to enjoyment, trying to find my way through an interesting kind of freedom. I don’t have hours of so-called “free time” on my hands– first of all, no involved parent does.
I am pondering, for the long haul and daily. What do I really want to do with my days on this planet? The Bat Mitzvah is over, the semester of auditing my law school class on Juvenile Justice and Special Education is over. I am doing all kinds of things, things I must do, a few that I just want to do, but the days go like a roller coaster. Faster and faster, with a feeling at times, of less and less control over them.
I am not writing as much as I’d hoped to. I am definitely not writing as much as I want to. I want to be doing this work of writing regularly. Very, very regularly. A sister blogger, working parent is predictably (she has just been moving through this trajectory for more than a year) working toward a book proposal. And here I am, two weeks and three days between blog postings.
But the other day– exactly one day after my most recent (it was not recent) blog post, I was driving from grocery store to school– huge rush, very late, to get my daughter and I heard this short column read aloud by Andrei Codrescu, on NPR. I’ve provided a link to the text but if you can figure out how to hear him, it is well worth it. He has a marvelous reading voice. I laughed out loud and nodded, all alone in the car, as I listened to him. I may even have said, “Aha!”. Now I see. I may need to find a more or less regular job, because as things are going right now, I do not have the time not to.