Wednesday, August 18, 2010

ambivalence is my word

la di da . . . just spent four luxurious days in Gloucester, Mass., with my long lost buddy L, her two beautiful blonde-haired daughters, and my patient travel companion, Rob. I hadn't seen L in over twenty years, we were best friends in our Tufts University days, in our twenties, and it was as though no time had passed. It just felt that comfortable. We both are having financial struggles so we were frugal, bought live lobster, cooked at home, lots of salad from her garden, sweet juicy tomatoes and bright green basil. Took long walks along the ocean with her new puppy, certainly nothing extravagant, just taking in the gorgeous scenery of the North Shore, the huge glacial rocks tossed about like pebbles, offering up a cozy seat for a quiet read. Speaking of reading, has anyone read The Kite Runner (I know it's been around for a while), or Eat, Pray, Love? Both are a nice easy read without grabbing a dictionary every other word.

And now we're home. Back to reality. Ugh, reality. But L was such an inspiration, to keep up the job search, without complaint, to be disciplined. All amidst a demanding family. So I'm calling for pharmacy jobs (oh, now I can speak of the mystery pharmacy job, it's as a medical communication specialist . . . and the Board of Pharmacy actually okayed it! Finally, throwing me a bone, after what, a year and a half of denying everything and anything).

And one last thing, after fretting back and forth for most of this year, and actually the last three, on and on about what to do with these Clara Schumann performances, whether to just let it go, chalk it up to frayed nerves and performance anxiety, I got a call from a library looking to book me. I called a woman I know who performs at schools as an electric violinist and we talked for over an hour, about my fears, my ambivalence (which by the way, I decided is my Eat, Pray,Love word --that word which best describes oneself, in a nutshell). Awful isnt' it? Who would want ambivalence to be their word, but there it is, the truth. So I think I may continue with the Clara shows. This woman reminded me that even though she does over 140 shows a year, each time she steps on the stage, she's has fear. Her recomendation? You guessed it, yoga.

So after three years of juggling pharmacy, writing, and Clara, I'm still not even close to working out any sense of balance. I'm just not willing to give up any of the trilogy. Hey, maybe my word should be obstinate. Or ADHD. How could anyone focus with three careers constantly buzzing inside one's head?

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Wuthering Heights right here in New Jersey

Feeling tired, spent, rather out of sorts. Ben went to camp for a solid month, so now it's just me and Rob and our five-month-long unemployment woes. It truly is beginning to feel like Wuthering Heights around here, you know, the part from the last half of the book, with morose Heathcliff shuffling down the hallways looking haggard and scruffy as all getup. I try and put an upbeat spin to it, that it's an opportunity for us to be together midday, a buddy to go food shopping with (my most hated chore), a helpful sport to come with me as I water my community vegetable plot, but this togetherness thing can only go so far. Soon I swear, my front door will burst open and I'll just go screaming down the street. Where I'd go is the question. I know it would be to a girlfriend, I just miss talking to a friend, one on one, laughing, drinking.

Rob says I need a job. "It is what most people do all day," he says, actually sweetly, "it really is what fills most people's days." Well, pharmacy was the plan, and that certainly didn't make my days any better. As you recall, I hated every working hour there. Speaking of which, which I really shouldn't, I may have stumbled upon an actual pharmacy career that may not be so onerous. But I can't spill the beans just yet. Sorry, more on that in the coming weeks.

Anyway, being in a pissy mood is sort of going with the flow these days, no? With temperatures hitting the 90's and everyone looking like a fallen sprig, I fit right in. The problem is, when I run into anyone I know, like a neighbor, or a school mom, who simply asks, "how are you?" in some food market aisle, that's when I trip all over myself.