Summer Me

The schedule we're pulling together for the summer impels me anew to figure out a way to be self employed, if for no other reason than there is so much I want to do, and only so much time I can take off, even with my pretty generous workplace allotment. Camping for two weeks! The Cape! Up to the homestead! Hippie campout! Now, Rhode Island for a couple of days! We can make it all work, but frankly how great would it be to zip off to P-Town for a couple of days in the middle of the week when traffic is less of a nightmare, or head out for a bit of quality time at Grandma's with no occasion, just to chill? All I need is something that doesn't require my physical presence at a given time. I want my laptop to be my place of employment.

Yes I know, first world problems in the extreeeeeeme. But a woman can have her dreams, and if other people can make theirs come true, why not me? I don't want things, and I never did. I just want enough to sustain us so we can make the most of our time with family and friends. Travel and good times, fulfilling the pursuit of those is my heart's desire ambition, always has been. I've got no problem with working for a living, I don't expect the world to support me, and I didn't come up with any sense of entitlement. I just want to do it on my own schedule, and I know this is possible. I just have to hustle to make it happen. Though once school starts for the booger--which is not actually as far away as I think--the whole concept is rendered moot as we'll be tied down in a whole new way (I'm not against homeschooling for other people, it's just not for us). But there will always be summer. Consider this the official statement of my rekindled writerly aspirations, brought about in service of owning my time as much as possible (I'm aware of things beyond my control and things like deadlines, not to mention the bevy of sacrifices that come with a career switch, I'm just talking in general). That and I'm still taking a gall-bath in the fortune made by the 50 Shades series author. I have no intention to argue the merits of something I'll never read, I don't care what other people spend their money on. It's just, if she can take her sloppy fan fiction to the bank like the Monopoly Man himself, there's got to be a way for me to use my keyboard tappa-tappa tendencies to support my L-I-V-I-N habit.

The thing is, at the heart of it, I have everything I could ever want in my life. I am truly, endlessly grateful every single day. And in some ways I feel like I have no right to ask for a drop more. But I always will, it's human nature and that hungry aspect is what gets shit done. So now's the hard part: doing the shit.

Funny I started this post in a very negative headspace stemming from some unpleasant workplace by-products (not worth going into, or I may tomorrow, we'll see) and I feel invigorated, instead of frustrated. Energized. Inspired. Insert seminar-speak synonym here. If nothing else, I'll go to the grave as a master of the self-pep-talk, and that's not nothing. Now, who wants to pay me?

In music news, I didn't think I liked the band Passion Pit but now I have to reconsider that stance.