I’m counting, that’s who. The remainder of my current employment. The number of weeks until I commence my new employment where I’ll be working for … me. Just me, myself, and I.
It’s interesting that the only “work” people seem to understand is that which you do for a company or a government. That if you say you work for yourself, people assume you don’t work at all. It makes me wonder how work is defined.
I think of my mother who held a minimum-wage job for decades (that is considered work) and who managed to keep a house and raise four children mostly on her own (isn’t that work?).
I work everyday. On average, I spend 40 hours a week tethered to an employer who pays me by EFT. The rest of the time I work to keep my house relatively clean, my clothes relatively clean, my cats relatively clean. We run errands (quickly) to make sure we have enough food, cleaning supplies and wine.
I work at staying healthy and fit. I exercise, take walks, work out in our garage, practice yoga.
The work that I want to do but haven’t been doing is writing and reading. Well, that will change in about 16 weeks. I’m counting down. The first thing I plan to do after I resign is sleep.
I’ll keep going for my early morning walks. I’ll still sit at the computer after my walk, but instead of “logging on” to my employer’s network, I’ll log on to my life as a writer.
In the meantime, I’ll take my bliss where and when I can get it.
The surprise of finding a paper wasp in one of our hurricane lilies.
Or the glory of a colorful morning.
Sometimes I get lucky with the sunrises. Sometimes I’m enchanted by a different vision.
While I hate driving in fog, this vision delighted me. I was walking, of course.
I have a bit of fun with my iPhone camera and an app (Insta Toon).
Don’t I look like someone who needs sleep? At least I no longer need a haircut. Temps around here went up to the mid-80s, with itchy humidity to boot. Impatient with trying to get a hair appointment, not to mention to pick out a hair style I can live with, I grabbed my husband’s beard trimmer.
Guide #4. Roughly a 1/2-inch all around. Greg, dear husband that he is, did the finishing touches. Then I had to trim off his hair. We’re twinses now :)
Wendy doesn’t think much of our antics. Here she is, sticking out her tongue in distaste.
I hope all of you are staying healthy and safe. I hope you all are finding some bliss–even if in snatches–during these strange times.
When I decided to accept a new position at my workplace (first mentioned here), I didn’t take into account the time I’d give up, the work I’d gained. Kind of like when I decided to share meals with the love of my life, not taking into account the clothes I’d give up because of the weight I gained. Choices.
The extra weight I carry is worth the 30+ years I’ve been with my husband, and I believe the work I’m now doing will be worthwhile, although not on a par with my marriage. Nothing bests my marriage.
I’m sure I’ll have plenty of times when I’ll slap my forehead and wonder out loud, “What was I thinking?!”. Oh, well. As I tell anyone who will listen, I’m grateful to have a job. We could take care of ourselves just fine if my new status in the office doesn’t work out. My bosses need me more than I need them, but that is what I respond most sincerely to: when someone needs me.
The time I’m giving up in order to catch up means I’ll have to make choices as to how I spend my even more precious free time. This past week I haven’t read any blogs, but I would like to change that. I’ll just be a more intermittent reader. I’ll definitely be less of a writer … for now.
Before this upheaval, I interviewed Megan Russo, author of A Daughter for Mr. Spider, a mixed media chapbook published by Nightingale and Sparrow. Here’s a link to the interview: http://nightingaleandsparrow.com/interview-with-megan-russo-author-of-a-daughter-for-mr-spider/ I had a lot of fun interviewing Megan. Even though it was done through email, I found Megan to be a wonderfully open and thoughtful writer. Her memoir is a lovely mix of flash narrative, poetry, photos, and collage. In roughly 50 pages, she gracefully tells a story of three generations of her family. I highly recommend A Daughter for Mr. Spider. Details for purchasing can be found here: http://nightingaleandsparrow.com/a-daughter-for-mr-spider-by-megan-russo/
For something not completely different because it’s still about writing: The book in which I have an essay arrived at my house recently. What’s not to love about seeing your name in print, to see your essay listed in the Table of Contents and … (drum roll) to even be cited in the index! I had written about this publication here: https://1writeway.wordpress.com/stay-at-home-and-stay-away-personalspace-socialdistancing/
Sexual Harassment is a powerful and timely reference book edited by poet and historian Merril D. Smith. Many of you already know Merril and enjoy the poetry, photos, and musings she shares on her blog at https://merrildsmith.wordpress.com/. This was the first time I had ever received compensation for my writing so I did what any writer would do and bought a copy of the book. As a contributor, I did receive a very nice discount, but I would have bought a copy anyway. I like seeing my name in print.
So I have been writing, but will likely write less. You will see less of my writing here on my blog, but I hope to visit you all more.
My challenge now is to use my time more carefully, more mindfully. Yoga, forest bathing, knitting, and brushing my cats are activities I need to do to counter the effects of being on the computer even more now. Are any of you experiencing “technology fatigue”? That’s what I’m calling a kind of fatigue that overtakes me sometimes, often during the work day. My Skype Business meetings are often beset with inadequate audio and visuals. That is draining enough. Then, while in a meeting, someone else might instant message me while another sends an email and still another calls on my cell phone. I do have moments when I want to scream (and since I’m currently working from home, I do scream). We have technology that is inadequate for our needs but we behave as if we must use all of it all the time.
That is what makes it so hard to shift over to my blog, to open my WordPress Reader or Twitter feed or Instagram. I (again) deleted my LinkedIn account and I avoid Facebook (except my youngest nephew and his wife recently had a baby so … yep, gotta check Facebook). So I’m not pushing myself. I tamp down the FOMO anxiety and remind myself this (job) isn’t forever. I’ve got a whole other life waiting for me when the time is right.
By the way, my boss gave me permission to use this photo as my work profile picture.
Cool cats wear face masks.
We’ll see how long I can get away with it. Some higher-ups might argue it’s not “professional.”
Now that summer is nigh in Florida, we going to try and make a habit of walking in the morning on Sundays and feast on pancakes for brunch. Here are a few scenes from Sunday’s morning walk.
Hawk!
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I do love seeing hawks in our neighborhood. Lake Marc (sigh) is actually a storm water facility that is not well-maintained: Lots of trash floating around and a tree is growing in the concrete inlet. I managed to pick up some trash but not as much as I could have if I had a boat. But birds and insects abound, marking the area as having ample biodiversity. We saw the hawk again (assuming it was the same hawk), red-winged blackbirds, a merganser duck, bees and butterflies, dragonflies. The air shivered with buzzes and hums.
Summer is nigh (did I already say that?) and the cats are in their stupor, showing their bellies.
I’ve been busy crazy the last few weeks due in large part to my day job. But it’s not all bad.
Nightingale & Sparrow (http://nightingaleandsparrow.com), a literary journal that I’ve grown to love, has a new issue out. It’s called “love” and includes a creative nonfiction piece by me. The publication of my essay is a perfect example of what happens when you see a tweet saying (and I paraphrase), “Hey, we need more creative nonfiction for an upcoming issue,” and you actually ACT on that tweet. You know you have something that definitely fits the theme of Love. You tighten it up, proofread, read out loud numerous times until you’re at risk of missing the deadline. Then you submit. And wait. When you get the email, you dance.
Other good news: I finished my mom’s lap blanket.
I hope to deliver it to her in person later this year.
Thanks for reading. I am way behind in making the rounds of my writing community. I appreciate all of you and hope to be in better touch soon.
For an early Valentine’s Day treat, here’s Junior in one of his more seductive poses.
Don’t worry. I’m not writing this post from my bathtub. No, I’m well-covered up in comfy clothes (including a wool cardigan), preparing another post of this and that and the other thing. Sigh. Where do I begin?
I sometimes think I should write my blog posts one thought at a time.
A while ago I wrote that I was knitting a lap blanket for my 96-year-old mother and was afraid I wouldn’t finish it before she left for Florida (yeah, she’s one of those snowbirds). You can read about my anxiety here. Well, as things have turned out, she’s still in New York for another six weeks at least.
My mom’s trip got derailed because she got a UTI. She wound up in the hospital only because one of my cousins insisted (and I quote from another cousin) that “it wasn’t normal for her to be in bed at 4:30” in the afternoon. My mom loves her bed, but, hey, there’s a limit.
Turns out my mom had had the UTI for awhile, but because she wasn’t in pain, she didn’t see the need to seek medical help. My mom would argue that her longevity and good health is due to her deliberate effort to avoid doctors. Her argument didn’t pass muster in this case. So she wound up in the hospital feeling lousy and thinking that this might just be “It.” She’s 96, I remind you, and she’s buried most of her siblings and two husbands.
The good news is the UTI got cleared up, her mood perked up, and she’s back in her double-wide, wondering what the fuss was all about. I called her the day after she came home.
Me: Hi, Mom! How are you?
Mom: I’m fine. (Pause). Who am I speaking to?
Me: Marie. Your daughter. (Pause). Remember me?
Mom: Vaguely.
I almost fell off my chair laughing. That’s my mom’s sense of humor. Smart-ass. Wise-ass. Wise-cracker. Whatever you want to call it. She thought I was being a smart-ass for asking if she remembered me, so she gave me one back.
The bad news is she still plans to come down to Florida. No, I’m not happy about that. The only reason why she got this UTI cleared up was because she’s heavily monitored visited by my cousins and my sister in New York.
In Florida, she stays with my other sister … eh, let’s just say my mom wouldn’t have the same network of support in south Florida that she has in New York. I’m about a six-hour drive from where she stays and that’s when traffic is light and the weather is perfect.
But let’s look on the bright side: I have more time to finish the lap blanket. I panicked last week because the instructions called for the border to be knitted separately and then sewn on. Sounds like one of my worst nightmares. Not to fear, though. I figured out I could knit the border while picking up a stitch along the edge, securing the border without sewing. Yay! Life is good! Now I just have to go on a knitting marathon to finish the blanket before the end of the year.
This is the last lap blanket I’ll ever knit. I mean that.
While all this was going on with my mom, I was taking every opportunity to get out and walk and find solace in nature, especially during my work week. In no particular order, here are some scenes from the nature walk that feeds my heart and soul.
A white egret and a blue heron at the same time!
Turtles!
Spotlight on the blue heron.
Wood storks grazing.
I don’t know the name of this plant, but it’s poetry in motion (except it’s not moving).
Ibises at work
An anhinga sunning itself.
I love these branches. They remind of a love knot.
By the way, for those of you who might be wondering about my often-talked-about novel … you know, the one I’m supposed to be working on right now for NaNoWriMo … well, I’m still working on it, but in a musing kind of way. You can read about my musing on Medium, in this article: Turning a True Crime Story Into Fiction. I’m sharing the Friend Link so you can read without subscribing.
Thank you for reading. To show my appreciation, here’s a gratuitous photo of Junior. I did not pose the cat pillow nor the cat.
For extra fun, here’s what I think of when I hear “Splish, Splash”:
As many of you know, I’ve been writing on Medium. It’s an interesting experience given that I actually earn some dinero from my efforts. Un poco dinero. Muy poco dinero. Not to discourage anyone from trying, but given the work I put into my writing, the payout is disappointing. But such is life, right? Writers are flocking to Medium now because everyone wants that chance to make thousands of dollars a month. I’d be happy with tens of dollars a month.
Still, I keep writing because I’ve become addicted to “publishing.” There’s a number of publications on Medium, some developed by Medium editors, some by individuals carving out a niche. I’ve found that my odds of gaining new readers increase if my story is published by one of these publications, rather than if I self-publish. Interesting. Who knew that would make a difference?
Medium recently changed their earnings algorithm, weighing read time more heavily than other forms of engagement like clapping (which is akin to WordPress’s Like button). So now I have to worry about whether anyone is actually reading my stories … lol.
Medium also wants to gain more readers. To that end, we writers are being encouraged to share our stories using the “Friend Link” so that non-Medium readers can read our stories without it counting against their limited access. Medium is hoping these non-members will become so enthralled with the great writing on Medium, that they’ll pony up the $5 per month to read more and more.
In other words, we Medium writers are becoming marketers, which is totally in keeping with my personality. Not.
But to show what a good sport I am, I will share two of my Medium stories, using the Friend Link so any of you non-members can enjoy my stellar prose for free. But, seriously, I feel honored whenever anyone reads my work right down to the last word.
My mom turned 96 in October and, while she still sounds healthy and even vigorous, I worry. Some in my family are joking that she’s likely to see 100. She might, but she might not, and I’m realizing that I won’t be ready … ever.
But, wait! Let’s not end this post on a sad note. Here … let Wendy put a smile on your face.
Every so often a light shines during these dark times we live in. Today’s bright light is courtesy of Kevin Brennon. Kevin’s latest novel, Eternity Began Tomorrow, will be available as an ebook starting September 18, 2019. I know I’ll be in line for my copy. How about you?
Giving a shout-out to long-time friend and longer-time writer, Jill Weatherholt. Jill’s latest and THIRD novel is now available! For details, go to http://jillweatherholt.com/
Marie at 1 Write Way 