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random tangent about the future
Jan. 30th, 2004 10:48 pmDroning through the day. Mood flatlining due to weather and fixation on computer all day. Art class made us happy, but we might not have enough people to run it next semester (starting next week) so we may be out of an activity. Not to mention my motivation to get up and get going on Friday, rather than lying in bed trying to summon the will to open my eyes. Ah well, we'll see.
Told my boss about the five year thing and she said she already figured that. There was a time when I thought I would save up to buy the bookstore from her, but, although I wish I could sometimes, I don't think I want to. I really don't want the heartache of owning a bookstore, not to mention the 70 hour work weeks and the constant worry that you're going to go out of business any minute. So I'll be trying to do that with my own thing instead, but at least it will be my thing, that I started, and that's integral to my self-expression, so I might as well get paid for it. Whoops, that sorta sounds like I want to start a bordello...ahem, not what I meant this lifetime.
I don't want to limit by saying "my jewelry business," because I intend to make it into more than that. And I'm at the point where all my work since 1990 or whenever the fuck I started could pay off, and I could make it alright as self-employed, with jewelry as the bread and butter, for now.
But, I'm still not giving up me day job. I have some years to get my act together, which maybe also includes writing and this band thing, and who knows? Self-doubt: can I really pull this off, with all those other things thrown in? It's a lot to work out, but I think I can do it. In five years, I'm gonna be, shit, 40. How can that be? (I hang out with these women who I think are my age or even older, and they're 27 or something, so I know what age I seem to be in my head, but jeezus).
And the other part of my future world domination plan is that I want to disconnect from the Man (as Alexis and the laughing rat would say). This modern lifestyle business is total horseshit. My Polish peasant family was self-sufficient from the time they came here from the Old World, and odds are they were farmers for generations before that...albeit downtrodden rabble that were forced to work for the convenience of the nobility (wait, what's different now?). I have reaped the benefits of being a kid in a self-sufficient context, and they are multitude and good. And the more we dance for the Man, the worse our lives get, no? I've always found it compelling to work back towards that idea of self-sufficiency, in food production and making the things you use, etc. Not everything, of course, but my grandfather, the king of the cob job, had a pretty wild assortment of skills and I think that's a goal worth attempting. His most successful period was when he had a really great part-time job with flexible hours and was able to spend lots of time at home playing with his various land-moving toys or whatever: the best of both worlds for him. When you grow up around something like that, it makes other lifestyles seem like a pointless waste of time.
Tom and I have discussed moving back to the farm, but it's not clear when and if that will happen. I'm disturbed to think it might not. Five years ago, I thought I was never going to want to move back there. Now, though, I've changed my mind, and have felt the pull of the Land I Grew Up On. It's really weird to feel that, but maybe not surprising. Working with my Pop, moving brush and rocks and dirt and stuff from one place to another has been instrumental in my renewed interest. He thinks it's hilarious that I come over and work with great glee at jobs he used to have to browbeat me to do: drive the tractor around and stack wood and work on the barn; I go home really tired and happy, and sleep the sleep of the innocent. During the spring, summer and fall, I go work for him at least once a week; it's glorious, and I learn a lot too. All that stuff I missed when I was a sulky teenager, wow, if I'd only been paying attention.
So somehow, I've gotten onto a rather large and complicated tangent about the future, and I should go home and go to bed instead, because the damn computer's been sucking out my brain all day. But winter's a good time for making plans and dreaming, and so I'm keeping with the season. Imbolc is in a couple of days, to break the back of winter, hurray!
Told my boss about the five year thing and she said she already figured that. There was a time when I thought I would save up to buy the bookstore from her, but, although I wish I could sometimes, I don't think I want to. I really don't want the heartache of owning a bookstore, not to mention the 70 hour work weeks and the constant worry that you're going to go out of business any minute. So I'll be trying to do that with my own thing instead, but at least it will be my thing, that I started, and that's integral to my self-expression, so I might as well get paid for it. Whoops, that sorta sounds like I want to start a bordello...ahem, not what I meant this lifetime.
I don't want to limit by saying "my jewelry business," because I intend to make it into more than that. And I'm at the point where all my work since 1990 or whenever the fuck I started could pay off, and I could make it alright as self-employed, with jewelry as the bread and butter, for now.
But, I'm still not giving up me day job. I have some years to get my act together, which maybe also includes writing and this band thing, and who knows? Self-doubt: can I really pull this off, with all those other things thrown in? It's a lot to work out, but I think I can do it. In five years, I'm gonna be, shit, 40. How can that be? (I hang out with these women who I think are my age or even older, and they're 27 or something, so I know what age I seem to be in my head, but jeezus).
And the other part of my future world domination plan is that I want to disconnect from the Man (as Alexis and the laughing rat would say). This modern lifestyle business is total horseshit. My Polish peasant family was self-sufficient from the time they came here from the Old World, and odds are they were farmers for generations before that...albeit downtrodden rabble that were forced to work for the convenience of the nobility (wait, what's different now?). I have reaped the benefits of being a kid in a self-sufficient context, and they are multitude and good. And the more we dance for the Man, the worse our lives get, no? I've always found it compelling to work back towards that idea of self-sufficiency, in food production and making the things you use, etc. Not everything, of course, but my grandfather, the king of the cob job, had a pretty wild assortment of skills and I think that's a goal worth attempting. His most successful period was when he had a really great part-time job with flexible hours and was able to spend lots of time at home playing with his various land-moving toys or whatever: the best of both worlds for him. When you grow up around something like that, it makes other lifestyles seem like a pointless waste of time.
Tom and I have discussed moving back to the farm, but it's not clear when and if that will happen. I'm disturbed to think it might not. Five years ago, I thought I was never going to want to move back there. Now, though, I've changed my mind, and have felt the pull of the Land I Grew Up On. It's really weird to feel that, but maybe not surprising. Working with my Pop, moving brush and rocks and dirt and stuff from one place to another has been instrumental in my renewed interest. He thinks it's hilarious that I come over and work with great glee at jobs he used to have to browbeat me to do: drive the tractor around and stack wood and work on the barn; I go home really tired and happy, and sleep the sleep of the innocent. During the spring, summer and fall, I go work for him at least once a week; it's glorious, and I learn a lot too. All that stuff I missed when I was a sulky teenager, wow, if I'd only been paying attention.
So somehow, I've gotten onto a rather large and complicated tangent about the future, and I should go home and go to bed instead, because the damn computer's been sucking out my brain all day. But winter's a good time for making plans and dreaming, and so I'm keeping with the season. Imbolc is in a couple of days, to break the back of winter, hurray!