(Yes. I do actually begin sentences that I speak aloud by saying “So” emphatically then pausing for effect. Don’t you wish you were my friend?)
So. I have declared my personal independence. From my job. I turned in my notice last week and now I’m winding my way through a last few weeks of writing extensive memos and packing files and scheduling farewell lunches and generally trying to download nearly 7 years worth of accumulated institutional knowledge to the people I’m leaving behind. I’m trying to fight the sense of dreamy disconnect that I remember feeling in my last weeks of high school, senioritis, we called it then. I’m trying to wrap everything up in a nice bow so I can say I ended my time at this organization as auspiciously as I began.
What’s next, you ask? Well, that’s a good question. How do I label what I’m about to do next? Voluntary unemployment? Professional parent? Stay at home mother? Housewife? Or do I cling to the label of working mom and toss out assurances that I’m going to do something; write, perhaps, freelance, consult. Something that speaks of a paycheck. Something that doesn’t sound like such a change in status, such a decamping from one model of life for another. Something easily recognizable to fill in the outlines of the person people think of when they think of me.
None of that is quite right, though. I’m going to stop going to a paying job. I’m going to care for my son. I’m going to tend to my house. I’m probably going to write. I may seek out part-time paying work down the line.
I’m not going to change. Much. No more so than when I changed from working to going to grad school or the change from when I left my career in the arts for my work in public policy. So, yeah, I’ll change but it’s not “change” in the political sense. It’s not change that bespeaks an assault on feminist philosophy. It’s just the next thing I’m going to do.
What does it mean for this blog? Well, you can be pretty sure that my self-imposed exile from the world of offices and flourescent lights WON’T mean I start writing about potty training and how to make a tutu from old dish towels and glitter. I’m still going to be a creature of the world and its happenings won’t be allowed to go by unremarked. I mean, let’s be real. Michelle Bachamnn is running for President! This is not the moment in history for me to start posting photos of perfectly decorated cupcakes, even if I thought I could decorate a cupcake worth photographing. I’m still going to be me, snarky, liberal, and easily outraged. I will continue to share my outrage generously. Maybe even too generously, but that’s another issue.
Now, I’m sure some of you are asking the very question that my real-life friends have been asking: will I blog about what it’s like to go from working to staying at home? The answer is yes, but only a little. Not because I don’t think it’s a worthy subject: on the contrary I think it’s an amazing subject and one I could tackle with a motherlode of humor. Rather, I think it’s such a good subject that I may try and sell it as a column or a book. As much as I love you all, I wouldn’t mind taking some money for this cow instead of giving away all the milk for free, ya know? (Yes, I just called myself a cow. Just go with it.)
Basically, this blog will continue to be a reflection of its creator: a woman with many things to say. Some of those things will be important and serious. Some of those things will involve shows like “Ice loves Coco”. I hope you’ll continue to stick with me regardless of what I say or what desk I sit at as I say it.