Nov

What I’ve been doing instead of blogging

By lynn

Working, working, working. I am incredibly behind at work, and with the cold that has me stuck in bed today (a doozy, I tell ya. My energy’s at about a 3), I’ll be even more behind tomorrow. Yay. Two weeks ago I had a sick day because of my back spasms. Last week, we had a day and a half of snow days. Yes, it’s nice to have time away from work, but this is all adding up to extra stress, which is showing up as me getting sick.
Incorporating a new ferret into our family. Teddy (nee Pretty Boy) is a rescue who is about 8 months old. His previous owner rescued him about 2 months ago, and just learned she’s going to be spending much of the next year in Alaska. We took Jack to meet him, and they didn’t kill each other, so we thought it might be a good idea. Teddy is gorgeous, plump, with near-black markings. He is very laid back, especially for a kit. We have some habits we’re working on breaking, such as his penchant for digging in the food bowl and the litter box, and his ardent thievery–he has stolen and hidden both of our Blackberries, Steve’s wallet and about 6 pair of shoes, pilfered my favorite lip gloss from my purse and who knows what else. It’s adorable yet annoying. Mostly annoying.
Nursing Jack back to health. Since Pharley died, Jack stopped eating. He probably wasn’t eating much in the 2 weeks before his buddy’s death either, because once we turned our attention to him, we realized he’d lost about half of his body weight. Also, his tail hair, which he generally loses in April and September, was not growing back. So, I’ve been hand-feeding him a mixture of turkey and sweet potato baby food, Ferretone and a vitamin supplement. He’s put a great deal of weight back on, his tail fur is growing in nicely, and he’s showing some of his previously youthful personality again.
Using a snow day to deep clean our bedroom. Nothing says comfort better than clean sheets and a clean room.
Spending time with the wonderful Lorrie Moore and a bunch of interesting writers. Which got me realizing that I’ve gotten so far away from my tribe that I feel like an imposter when I’m around them. I love the people of Lighthouse Writers. I thought I could live without them except in the periphery. I have for the past 8 years, with rare exceptions of the occasional half-day or weekend workshop. This group does wonderful things in our community, and I want to be part of it. I need to figure out how to do that again, because writing fiction–as well as writing the personal essays here on my blog–is what I want to do, and being in writers workshops motivates me to write.
Contemplating my next move. Last weekend, I broached the idea of me quitting full-time employment in the future in order to write my book. Of course, I told Steve, I would do some freelance and likely take a very part-time job to bring in some cash and feed my socializing jones. I can’t afford to do it until I’ve paid off the remaining wedding bills and my car, but if I’m diligent, it can happen sooner rather than later.
Realizing that I married the right man. Because when I told Steve what I was thinking about doing (see #6), he said, and I quote, “It’s your dream, and I will support you in your dream, even if it means making sacrifices for the short term.” Which, of course, made me cry. Because no one but me has ever supported my dream so simply before, without putting conditions on me.
Realizing that you can’t rent a 3-bedroom, 1,500 sq ft townhouse in a decent part of Denver for less than what we’re paying for our current place. We’ve been talking about selling this place (short sale) and renting something else. The idea is to get us into a place with 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms with a 2-car garage for about $1,000 a month. That would save us about $400 a month, which we would sock into savings for #6. We could find a place that’s in the distant suburbs, adding at least 25 minutes to my commute to Lauren’s school and to work. However, that extra commuting time and gas would pretty much negate the $400 a month in savings. Alas and alack.
Reading the book Your Money or Your Life. It’s a 9-step program that aims to help you align your ideas of money and spending it with your life values and goals. I’m skipping step 1 for now–figuring out my true hourly wage by adding in all the ancillary costs of working fulltime in my current job and dividing those costs by my paid hourly wage. Step 2 is writing down every penny you spend or receive or find or lose. That’s where I’m starting. We’ll see how it goes. All I know is the mortgage calculators tell me we should be able to afford a house payment of about $2,000 a month, and we feel strapped paying $1,400. Something’s amiss.
Taking a look at how I define myself. Also, in doing this YMoYL program, I may for the first time in my life be able to separate my “work” from “how I make a living.” Because saying I’m a writer and then spending less than 20% of my work time actually writing doesn’t feel good anymore. Or maybe, it never did feel good, and I’ve been hiding in PR because I’m too afraid of doing what I really want to do and FAILING (or succeeding). My whole ego and self image is (like almost all Americans) tied up in how I earn money. I’ve been saying that I don’t feel I can do what I really want to do (write a book, go back to school, both) while working fulltime in a demanding job. Then I get caught up in the “yeah, buts.” I’m not making any rash moves, but those “yeah, buts” are starting to become “what ifs.”
Reading Stephen King short stories. I used to be a huge SK fan, and read everything he wrote up through Bag of Bones. The Stand is on my list of all-time favorite novels. Lately–and by lately I mean since he was hit by a car–I think he’s lost his edge. His stories have lost a lot of energy. I picked up Just After Midnight, a suite of his short stories, at the grocery store checkout lane the other day, and there are some good, scary tales inside–stuff of old, stories I can’t put down because I’m terrified and have to get through the end. Reading these, and hearing Lorrie Moore talk about her work the other day leave me feeling inspired to write some stories again. Maybe not straight fiction, but the other stuff I’ve published (and gotten paid for). Or maybe straight fiction. Maybe, just writing.
Purging. I’ve culled nearly 200 friends off my Facebook list, haven’t spent any time reading other blogs in almost two weeks, unsubscribed to all those junk email lists that have been my morning friends–basically the only email I get–cleared out my closet (again, making me wonder why I need to buy new clothes only to donate them 6 months later), letting go of my suits which don’t fit me anyway. I’m clearing my plate for something new. Making room.
Wondering if I’ll continue with human, being. I’ve decided not to go to Blogher ‘10. And after the scare I had with my boss telling me that although she believes in freedom of speech I should carefully consider what I might publish publicly, because it could come back to bite me in the ass professionally, I’m reconsidering if working my shit out in public is really such a good thing. Then again, at least here I’m writing. Stay tuned.