I am easing my way back into writing. Yesterday I opened a Word document on my computer. It sat there while D and I watched Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. It sat there while I perused pinterest and facebook and thought about making banana oatmeal muffins (didn't have enough oatmeal).
"What should I write about?" I asked.
"Sloths." He said.
Terribly, the majority of my conversation these days revolves around my employment and my lack of contentment there. It is never safe to talk about these things on the internet. I am trying to force myself into contentment no matter what the circumstances. Be. Content. Because the truth is that my life is very good, in total. I just wish "work" weren't a forty hour a week endeavor. I wish I didn't spend more time with my coworkers than with my spouse.
There seems to be something very wrong in a society that pushes us out of our homes and away from our chosen life mates in order to "make a living". Who would want to make a living that didn't include your husband and your home? A living away from family and hearth sounds terrible.
At least, I hate it.
I keep trying to think of something, a get-rich-quick skill, that I can suddenly turn into a business so that I can support my life of non-jobiness. Unfortunately, life is work, and any awesome, counter-cultural life of self sufficiency requires a great deal of knowledge and skill. I am starting at the very beginning.