Settling the Heck Down

So I fell off the NaBloPoMo wagon. Hard. In what would have been my tenth straight year. Part of me feels really bad about that, like it's a sign that I've given up on the only type of writing I've ever achieved something approximating success at, like I had a chance to keep something really meaningful going and I blew it. The other part of me thinks, Hmm, what else have I never done in any of those other nine Novembers?: Driven to New York and back regularly to visit my killing-it-at-college son; started a second job; hung out in Cabo for a week reconnecting with my long-suffering husband, drinking really excellent tequila, sexy-dancing with a nurse and a PR VP, riding a camel and being, by all reports, a hands-down fabulous show wife; I've run out of things and I feel like there should be at least one more, but you get the gist.

So, as I said one year, sometimes you do it well and sometimes you just do it. As it turns out, sometimes you don't actually do it like you meant to. That's okay. There's still a decent stretch of November left for me to decide if I want to do this or if I'm doing it out of some weird superstitious compulsion that isn't actually healthy.

First day at my new job yesterday. It wasn't awesome. I took a Benadryl the night before which usually ensures that I sleep peacefully until 7:30. Instead I woke up at four, laid awake for a couple hours, then had a few really unpleasant dreams that should have had a violence and sex warning (although for once I looked nice with my hair in a ponytail), and woke up feeling drained and weird. I got to school and there was no login information for the library software system for me (it's entirely possible that this was my mistake, and in the future I'll know to email support before I actually go in). The library was set up for the book fair, and there was some confusion as to whether classes would actually be coming in, which was panic-inducing because, like I said, no login information, and then anti-climactic when no classes came in and I spent my first day just putting "Order Me" stickers on last copies for the book fair. I felt odd and out-of-place and sad.

On my drive home, I gave my head a shake. The few staff members I did meet (resource teachers whose offices are off the library) were lovely and welcoming. The school is a six-minute drive from my house. Because I have this job and not one at the public library, I work a few hours a week for a wage that will allow me to pay for some stuff like Bluesfest tickets and Christmas presents and vacations and tuition. And I have summers off.

I'm off today. I just made my home-from-college son an egg salad sandwich while we talked about Omega-3 acids, fish oils, subsidized housing, the flu shot, climate change, and Tupperware lids. Life is good, and I am settling the fuck down.