Job and Searching

It is 10:00 a.m., I teach at 1:00 p.m. My classes are planned for today and tomorrow, even Friday. This is the time I should be working on my writing. No, not this writing, but the writing that I keep from you in hopes it will be published, some day, somewhere. In order for that to happen, I have to write it. And then I have to send it. Those things have evaded me for about six years. Six. Years. 

When I was eight, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life; I wanted to be an archaeologist and a writer. So, I got a degree in anthropology, got some jobs digging, and did it. Then, I got a degree in writing, and, well, this is the tricky part: I've had many jobs teaching developmental English and composition to college freshmen. It's nearly impossible to get a job as a "writer" or to teach creative writing. So, I work at two colleges teaching three classes where I get paid, on average, 9 dollars an hour. In the next month, I'll start looking for summer work. 

It's even more impossible to find a job in my field when I'm not very mobile. I have a beautiful son who requires a lot of doctors and therapists. I have an ex wife with whom I share custody. Searching for jobs outside a 30 mile radius isn't really an option, unless everyone is willing to move. But it's not just being willing, it's being able to. Cyrus keeps me grounded right now.

Or maybe I'm just using him as an excuse because I'm scared. The past years have been traumatic for me. Most of the time it feels okay to be in one place and finally know all of the doctors' names and have their numbers saved into my phone. I know exactly where to go if there's a seizure, if his feeding tube breaks, when his overnight brace falls apart...sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name. And it's no small thing that all of his doctors and therapists have known him his whole life. The thought of trying to explain everything to new people just makes me shut down. 

Gaby asked recently what my dream job is. After a lot of thought and tears, I had to say I don't know anymore. I haven't allowed myself to dream for a very long time. 

This is what I do know: I love to travel. I love to eat new things. I love writing. I love playing in or near bodies of water. I love connecting with people. I love researching and learning about the past.

I love my son.