How fitting that the end of this challenge, which ended up taking 102 days, should come when the next Life Phase is beginning. I love it when life fills in its own transitions, and I don't have to create a scene break or artificitial transition statement in the narrative of my life.
So here we are: sitting in Joe's office at the St. Louis Community College-Florissant Valley while he grades students' finals. Outside, it is summer. Officially. It is 80 degrees, sunny with a chance of rain and a 100 percent chance of beer-drinking and Rome-watching this evening. We are nearly done with our educations; Joe graduates on Friday. We are nearly done with wedding plans; we're addressing invitations tonight (BEFORE drinking).
I have an endlessly growing summer reading list, starting with the rest of Main Street this week to get myself back in the Lost Generation mindset. Through these 90 (or 102, depending on your outlook) days, I've realized what I'm writing to and where my reading focuses, fiction- and nonfiction-wise. Now, I'm dedicating myself to those causes. I'm generating more creative writing. I'm readying myself for real life as a Writer, because unless I'm willing to put that label on myself, I won't be willing to do the work to get myself there.
So. We're at the start of summer, after Saturday's graduation. I have this week to brace myself and hold down some quick jobs: a reporter at the Wapakoneta Daily News, possibly doing some freelance work and definitely working for my dad's handyman business... including starting his Web site. I'm utilizing the summer to gain real skills. I'm pushing past the student of the classroom mindset and moving onto being a Student of the World.
Joe and I have been doing a lot of talking to this topic. We're both seriously considering PhD's in some sort of literature, trying to figure out our focus and when we'd be be ready for that kind of workload while still managing to hold down jobs. We're deciding what kind of people we'll be together, how to hold each other accountable for writing and submitting and publishing and working and then living outside of these things.
So what I'm saying here is that when I reached the end, I felt anything but sad. I felt relieved, invigorated, anxious for this next phase: to have a week of ironing out wedding details, budget details, summer visit details and writing schedules with Joe; to have a week of relaxation before really beginning a 30 Day Shred; then to get working and writing for real. Because it is real now, isn't it? This is that moment they tell you about, when you enter the Real World. And away we go.
I'm off to spend my night writing letters, figuring out how much food I can buy each week, buying champagne flutes, drinking strawberry smoothies, creating a pre-France shopping list and sitting with my future husband. La vie, je t'aime.
90/90, here we are
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
::followers::
::find me::
::labels::
memoir
SNAPSHOT
list
la francofile
link
pets
writing
St. Louis
gardening
groceries
death
graduation
summer
Baby
bitching
marriage
Katherine Hepburn
avocado
body shape
café
flash fiction
life
love
moving
blogging
domesticity
food
job
long-distance
stress
tea
Jill
Muncie
birth control
dancing
eating
family
food baby
fraud
goals
growth
home
house
library
mornings
photographs
prose poem
reading
small things
time
65 cents
Abigail Thomas
Asian
Big Rudy
Catholic
Christmas
Crystal Method
David Bowie
EarthShare
Food Inc
France
Hemingway
Holga
Italian
Joe
Morse code
Santa
Saturday
Singapore
Spring
Venice
Wapak
adultery
age
argyle socks
bagels
bank
bank again
beer
bike
birds
break-in
bus 33
cake
changes
chicken
chik'n
chipmunks
cleaning
coffee
concert
condiments
confession
countdowns
dachshund
dances
deer
deer again
dependency
did and didn't
disgusting
ears
eggs
excuses
failure
flashlight
flossing
flying
foster care
freezer pops
giant otter
gloves
haiku
hair
happy
health center
heath care
help
hiding
kazoo
kids
knife
leisure
lip gloss
magic
mail
me
meijer
meshuggah
meta
money
monophobia
music
nesting
nice things
no right
nonfiction
nudist play
numbers
office
pancakes
papaya
parents
peanut butter
poetry
potato
rabbit
reflection
religion
ribbon dancers
scents
second person
security
shaving
shoes
sick
silverfish
sister
smell
social media
space
success
tact
thanks
the diner
the shit
train
truth
wedding
week
winter
yoga
zippers
0 comments:
Post a Comment