Monday, November 10, 2008
Grey grifty November. The clouds push closer and closer--determined to crush our minds and spirits, determined to garner our souls. The house is dark, lights off for energy savings and to slow financial hemorrhage. The sink is full of dishes. Powdered sugar covers the counter like a winter snow, melted, then refrozen with litter from the streets. The cupcakes have disappeared. All that remains is the mess. It feels hopeless, desolate. I stand at the kitchen window and watch a single leaf dangling from a skeletal branch, holding, holding then snap--with a gust of wind it’s gone. I too am ready to snap, to disappear in a tempest as if I’d never been. There’s nothing left to do but clean.
The kitchen lights sputter, shocked at being called into action, then spark to life. I push up my sleeves and turn on the sink. Bright pink gloves protect my eczematous hands. The warmth creeps in; it ignores the latex barrier and begins to thaw my marrow. I smell last night’s dinner--grilled onions glazed in a balsamic reduction--love burnt into the pan. One by one the dishes disappear. The counter shimmers. The kitchen is transformed.
It’s the cycle of seasons, the cycle of housecleaning, the cycle of life. And I realize it’s time for my life to cycle. I ache for the upswing. Gloves off I stand ready.
This weekend I had a epiphany. I was kneeling in the living room picking up toys and thinking about how I had to work over Thanksgiving. Thinking about how I had to work Tuesday night (and Wednesday night and Saturday day and Sunday day). And I realized that I really really don't want to do it anymore. I need to make a change before I end up in the loony bin.
At the same time I wrote the above post for a writing prompt. That solidified it. I'm now taking baby steps to change my life by the time I turn forty (this gives me 2 1/2 years to formulate and execute my plan). I don't yet have a solid plan but this weekend I started poking around the freelance writing market - we'll see what pans out.
My current fantasy--to find enough freelance writing and veterinary relief work to pay the bills. I'm not looking for fame or fortune. I'm looking for a reasonable income with reasonable flexible working hours.
Truth-be-told I'm scared, scared even to write this. It seems silly. A pipe dream. I may be an abysmal failure. And these are baby baby steps. I'm not quitting my job--yet. I'm simply wondering if I could quit my day (well actually night) job sooner than later. But I'm putting these thoughts out there for you to read, to know, so I don't chicken out.
And today a friend sent this quote from The Artist's Way ..."leap and the net will appear." I hope hope hope it's true. I'm not quite there yet. I'm on the precipice, peering over the edge into the canyon below, contemplating the consequences. I could fly. I could fall. I could hit the bottom and bounce; find myself bruised but in the air. I'll keep you posted.