I’m reading A More Beautiful Question, a book I bought oh so many moons ago to ask the right kinds of questions of the data sets I was working with. It wasn’t what I expected. It was more airy-fairy and nebulous, and perhaps disturbing at some fundamental level because it questioned me in ways I … Continue reading The Deferred-life Plan
In my late teens an accountant paid me $10/hour to clean her place. The first time someone paid me a good wage where my parents didn’t talk her down. It was necessary too. I was allergic to cats but I was primarily cleaning up cat hair and covert cat turds. Covert as in behind all … Continue reading I used to clean houses.
The flavor of the day was failure. Since I made the decision to leave my job around two weeks ago my brain has delighted in torturing me with my ‘failure’ to make the position work. It has an almost magical ability to reframe every word, or thought into some reflection of failure. It’s fascinating to … Continue reading How to feel like a failure
Well, first a library volunteer and then a librarian’s assistant. As a volunteer I would retrieve books from the book drop and reshelve them. I don’t remember much else from that time, other than frequently getting caught reading in the book drop. I’d drag a cart to the book drop with the best of intentions, … Continue reading I used to be a librarian
Today, I have given myself permission to lay in bed as long as I want. Which means I’m sitting up in bed, typing, with a heat pad in the small of my back. The cat is sitting on the windowsill, mewling about his tragic fate as an indoor cat, while I, equally morosely, wonder what … Continue reading Permission to rest
First I was a sheep midwife, and then, later, an honest-to-goodness cowboy (even women can cowboy, it’s a verb more than a noun). Sheep midwifery was hard work. When you have up to 850 pregnant sheep ready to drop their babies at any minute you’re always busy. You make sure that sheep giving birth for … Continue reading I used to be a ranch hand
I feel like it’s a typical first job for girls, especially those who, like me, had younger siblings. As soon as people were ok with paying me to look after their kids I started working. At the age of 13 I wanted to earn money to travel. I also wanted to have the freedom to … Continue reading I used to do childcare