something about writing ‘september’
made me smile and my soul exhale. Well, perhaps not my soul, as it wouldn’t be anxious. But somewhere a knot, or more likely a simple bow, has loosened. Simple: I like the word, what it implies:
clear, free, undisturbed, openness.
So. Not. Me.
Yet that is how I feel at exactly 6:30 am.
The phrase no expectations floats silently through my head, ears, consciousness. But nothing has changed, I think. Can’t be. There is a shift (this has happened before, more often lately), a bit gradual, so it’s been barely — if at all — noticeable. Hmm,
a sudden thought did occur to me yesterday
See, I don’t go out to work anymore; it’s been over five years now. I don’t think I work, really, although my husband often impresses upon me that I am officially an employee and that what I do for his business is invaluable. But I don’t feel it; my mind doesn’t acknowledge it.
most likely the problem, right?
There are no colleagues, no chatting in the copy room, no dressing up, deadlines, projects (I super miss those), learning, or interactions. I know I am beyond blessed, b-l-e-s-s-e-d, to work from home for my husband. But I have another purpose — everything around me screams it,
albeit in a subdued way
So yesterday’s thought was: you do have a job. Are you ready to do it? The job does not require you right now to dress up and leave the house. Your home life, and all that it entails (work, writing, doing what I forego, even personal care), has a purpose. So treat it all as training | employment.
i was beyond taken aback
Put that way, I definitely shall. I like to do what I … what I what? Like? Am expected to do? No, I like to do what must be done and what I am able to do or that I can learn to do. If I were to be reviewed … I’d have a lot of splaining to do, Lucy.


