Freedom

Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo -- Mexican Independance Day. I must admit, for someone who spent three years of her life working in Mexican Restaurants, I know very little about Cinco de Mayo.

But I do know this.

One year ago, Cinco de Mayo, was my last day of working a second job. For one full year, I have been relying on one single paycheck. And, while I constantly moan and stress about my finances (and, yes, I will be eating ramen and mac n' cheese for 9 days until I get paid again...) it feels REALLY GOOD to have a normal work week.

It's given me a lot to think about. Where I've been. What I've gone through. Where I'm going.

And to a certain extent, I think much of the recent past has been part of a misstep. A precocious mid-life crisis. But it has gotten me to where I am today. And while that sounds trite and cliched (or, as Napolean would say, cliqued), it's no less true.

So, here's to freedom! Pour me another Spider Cider, rocks, salt.

Precious Moments

My best friend's daughter, who is 17 going on 35, has landed a job. She is working at Taco Bell. The best thing about her new job, other than the fact that the uniforms are purple (purple is a ery good color for her) is that she doesn't have ask, "Do you want fries with that?" We all have our standards.

The other night, she was tasked with cleaning the men's bathroom (after closing time, of course). After this nightmare event, she dialed up her boyfriend. Below is a rough transcript of the conversation, as related by her mother.

"What's up with you guys and your lack of aim?"

Pause.

"Well, sometimes it's a game. And sometimes you get, you know, distracted. By like a fly or something."

I'm so glad he provided a concrete example to prove his point.

I'm a Toys R Us Kid

Remember those commercials? "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid!" They were great.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about that lately.

I went on a job interview on Tuesday. It was a great job with a great organization. And I really think I would have had a chance. If, say, I had an MBA and about five more years experience.

And I came home and started thinking about getting an MBA. It's a conversation I've had with myself many times.

But then I took a step back.

I'm currently being forced to curb my exercise habit. For better or for worse, I will be getting home much earlier than 7:30/ 8 p.m. these days. And I will be significantly less ravenous when I get home. So, in theory, I should have much more time to write.

And, truth be told, I've got a LOT of ideas kicking around in this ole head of mine.

Then I remembered back to the words of a well-respected member of a previous writing group. Who told me (and I paraphrase) "You've got style and ear. When you figure out what it is you want to say, you will be a great writer. PLEASE find an MFA program and enroll."

You can't exactly get an MFA and an MBA at the same time.

So it seems I'm at a crossroads. On one hand, getting the MBA will allow me to earn the money that could - potentially - allow me to take the time to do the writing that makes me happy. On the other hand, getting the MFA will help me to better do the writing that makes me happy. Of course, while both expensive, one is considerably more expensive than the other. See employee Continuing Ed section of contract.

I don't need to decide this all at once. But given all of the stuff that's been coming up for me in reiki and meditations, in conversations and dreams, I do think it's got to be decided relatively soon.

I don't want to read the headline in the Boston Globe, "Novelist, at age 85, has first work published."

What a Day

I've been meaning to post all day. My phone started ringing around 10:30 a.m. and did not stop. You know the easiest way to have a really busy day at work? Hope like hell to have a nice quiet one.

All things considered though, it wasn't a bad first day back. Long Napoleanic conversation, which was to be expected, but otherwise I managed to put out most of the fires and even meet some very friendly people over the phone. (Of course, drop a huge gourmet chocolate truffle order in the laps of a mom & pop gourmet chocolate shop, and they'll be nice to you.) So non-stop, but not necessarily in a bad way.

And then ...

I had reiki tonight.

And whatever else is going on in my life will have to wait. I feel positively blissed out. Drunk on energy.

Oh yeah - and I need to get in touch with my inner child. But what else is new?

Sigh. I love spring.

Beltane

Tomorrow night is the celebration of Beltane (or Beltaine as I prefer). The sabbat of the Great Marriage of the God and Goddess, the unity that results in harvest. It's the time when, long ago and far away, men and women retired to the fields and made like the beasts. There was much wine, much song, much dancing.

And so, to celebrate, I'm having my womanhood sliced and diced.

I know I've mostly moaned and whined about how I won't be able to do yoga or kickboxing. But that's all a really good cover for what's going on.

Because, you see, even though this is a fairly routine procedure, I'm pretty sure what's going on down there. And it ain't good.

I've had decidedly strange/odd/abnormal twinges, feelings, pains for a few months now. I've chalked it up to paranoia, to pulled muscles, to anxiety, to bad Chinese food. But, when my reiki practicioner mentioned that she felt something "going on down there" and when I felt such a blockage in yoga that I literally cried out and collapsed onto the mat, well.....

So, maybe it's nothing and maybe it's something. I guess we'll find out a week or so after tomorrow. But I'm scared. And worried.

And I wish I could just be ignorant and celebrate Beltaine and prepare for the upcoming bountiful harvests and be happy.

Ah well...