YA KNOW…I have heard the phrase “the toughest job you’ll ever love” from a wide variety of sources, about an equally large variety of jobs. The Peace Corps is the original, of course. And I have precisely zero experience working for them, so I couldn’t tell you whether or not it’s accurate.
Parenting, however, yes. It is a tough gig and I love it. Mostly. Except for those occasions when I’m faced with a raging sea of Important Decisions and find myself just sitting there opening and closing my mouth like a dying trout, with no Words of Wisdom threatening to flow forth.
The Denizens are in the final month of school, and it is hard going. They’re sick of school, I’m terrified of what happens when it lets out. I’ve got nothing for childcare all summer (thank you, parks and rec, for cutting back the summer camp to three hours in the morning…), so, you know…really.
I have no idea what I’m going to do with the kids while I’m working.
Which brings me to the other tough job, owning a business. It’s hard work, and I love it. Mostly. Except that dog dang, but it is hard work. It’s up early, up late kind of work. It’s never put to bed, and no matter how many hours you spend chipping away at it, there’s always one more thing you’d like to get done before you hit the old sack for a few hours of battery recharge.
In fact, right now I’m working on proposals for a wide array of potential jobs…submit ten, hope to actually get one.
Heh. Watch. We’ll get all ten, and I’ll be scrambling like a crazy person trying to get all the work done.
BUT MEANWHILE…my poor blog just sits here, the lonely orphan.
There’s so much going on right now that I’ve got nothing here.
And it’s almost midnight.
And my alarm is going off in five and a half hours.
Good night, dear ones…eventually, we’ll all have a good long laugh about All This, right…?
R. Buckminster Fuller
6 hours ago