When I embarked on my little quest to be the housewife from the 50's (with a boyfriend playing the role of "husband" while not actually supporting me and a Boston terrier, Siamese cat and a parade of fish in the role of "the children," mind you) this summer, I expected there to be a good bit of ribbing. That's sort of the role I play in a lot of my relationships, and I'm good at taking it on the chin (or, more often, tuning it completely out).
I think I'm pretty good at taking minor criticism in the form of snubs. When friends from high school give me the sad eyes filled with pity because the Crimefighter and I aren't married, a mutual decision arrived at by two people who set their stock in the path of least resistance, I let them think what they will. When a family member who needn't be mentioned by name feels the necessity to qualify a reference to Ernest Hemingway with "you know, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Sun Also Rises" despite the fact that I've had pretty near close to a quarter of a million dollars worth of literature education pass through if not become lodged in my head over the years, I say nothing. There's a modicum of resentment, yes, but I fight the battles that can be won, most of the time, and this is a field I abandoned years ago.
Still, what I didn't expect to find about my self-imposed/ self-selected hiatus from the working world is the anger it would inspire. I truly get the feeling that an awful lot of people find it personally and morally reprehensible that I've chosen to explore, for a limited time, the me aside from the me that punches a time clock (well, OK, not literally) during the school year.
First off, I should say that I don't consider myself entitled to this summer off. Most people in my profession have summer things they do. The fortunate have summer things to do that aren't demeaning and degrading. For two summers, I hauled my butt out of bed five and sometimes six days a week at 5 or sometimes 6 to drive the reverse commute (still a drag) down I-93 to the South Shore and the Cape to register little kiddies into summer camp so they wouldn't be stuck in the hood all summer starting fires, joining gangs, or being glued to the television set. I did it with a song in my heart because I felt there was a purpose. It helped others at the same time that it kept me in Iced Coffees and other niceties.
That came to an end as the economy ground to a halt, and I no longer had a summer thing I felt made a contribution to my state or my world. I don't think I could muster the same commitment to getting people fries with that. I'm not too good to wait tables, but I'm also not good at it.
I also realize I am fortunate in that I have a certain situation that allows me a financial freedom most people don't have. I gave up an $850 a month (my half, mind you) crappy flat in the city and hauled my cookies to the burbs for the sole purpose of not contributing thousands of dollars a year to the conglomerate of Nordblom management who seemed intent on using my money to turn my apartment into a bat sanctuary. (I know the bats might have been an endangered species, and I don't care. Maybe they BECAME endangered because they refused to roost in a place they were wanted. At the risk of sounding all 1979 Camaro, ass, grass, or cash, no one stays for free.)
And, no, I don't pay The Crimefighter rent at this time. The reason is not because I'm a freeloader. The reason is because smart women do not move in with men they are not married to and then become financially dependent on them. I needed a few more years to become truly free and clear, debt-wise, as private education and graduate education is never free, even when you are on full graduate assistantships (which I was), at least not in the Humanities. Timing didn't allow me to wait, and our agreement was that I would break the rules and use what would be rent to get to my position of financial independence that much faster. That and I would take full responsibility for cleaning the tub, cause DAMN.
I won't even bring up that The Crimefighter owes me and the Manda a solid from a time way before this when he needed digs in Boston and didn't have to pay for a hotel room for three months. I will also not bring up the fact that I donated way more than he would have charged me for two years of rent in his name when I moved here. I had, what some might call an obsessive amount of stuff. The Manda gets her ceiling fans installed, and I get to claw my way out of debt.
I think there are some parts of his life that are better now that I'm here. He had the typical bachelor's food stores when I moved in, and he hated going to the grocery store. He no longer has to do that. One of the things I've discovered over the year and am trying to hone now is a love of cooking. I'm a little more experimental than he cares for, so sometimes my dinners hit the metaphorical wall like Mr. Magoo playing Jai Alai, but for the most part he has a meat and some vegetables waiting for him when he comes home from work. This is a far cry from the steady diet of granola bars and goldfish crackers he used to subsist on.
The tub looks better. A LOT better.
The dog only rarely spends the whole day in the bucket, and usually gets a walk and a dog park visit every day, so he isn't a little freakazoid when Daddy gets home.
The fish get fed so steady that they are breeding. REALLY breeding. Seriously. Anyone want a cichlid?
But as usual, I digress.
What I never expected was to make people angry when they ask me what I'm doing, and I say I'm not working. I wonder if stay-at-home moms get this too. I bet I'm an even bigger sinner in the eyes of the workforce, because a Boston Terrier and a Siamese cat really don't need my constant presence to survive.
Still, it isn't like I sacrificed a virgin to the Underworld to be able to take the summer off, and it isn't like I'm living off Gerry. I did it the old fashioned way. I spent nine months asking myself every time I was in a store whether I wanted whatever it was I wanted more than I wanted the summer off. For the most part, I always wanted the summer more. Now, I have it, and I'm a pariah to some.
I still buy all the food for the house. I do conserve it a lot more and use leftovers when I can, but aren't you supposed to do that all the time? I have more time, so I shop at farmer's markets and rely on fruits and vegetables rather than meat, which also lowers my bill. To me, it's a matter of choices and priorities. I made these, and I don't know why that infuriates a few folks.
It's opened up a whole way of looking at my life, by making me defend the choices that most people say they would make "if only they had the time." I HAVE the time, I made the choices, and I must say I'm happy so far with the outcome.
Here's what I get to do:
- I spend a lot of time with my pets. The dog was expensive, and when I'm working, I never get to just hang out with him other than on the weekends. He's a better pet for my troubles. The cat was free, but he's getting up there in years (I lost his sister in March), so I'm happy to have time enjoying his company. He's on a dog cushion just by my right shoulder at the moment. A little writing, a little nuzzling my cat. That is what life should be.
- I'm growing vegetables for the first time in my life. It's thrilling to watch my tiny little seeds become tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and peas. So far, I'm really thrilled I don't suck at it.
- I write. This is something I used to do all the time, and it got lost along the way. Getting back into writing, just for myself, will actually make me better at my job; at least I hope so. My plan is to do a NANOWRIMO (50,000 words in 30 days) month in July. Maybe I'll do June 15th through July 15th. I kind of have an idea now. It's the same feeling as having a crush on someone you think might like you back. You walk around all day thinking about it and smiling.
- I clean my house. It really isn't that bad if you only do it a little bit a day (and refuse to let the Crimefighter into the rooms you just cleaned -- pretty soon, he'll be relegated to the half bath downstairs!). The house, right now, looks pretty damn good.
- I give myself projects and force myself to do them. I'm in the process of digitizing my past, and it is fascinating! My family is really cool. I know that now in ways I didn't before.
- I go to yard sales every Saturday morning. Gives the Crimefighter and I time to miss each other, and sometimes I get something cool for a dollar. I also do a little volunteering in the process. My aunt works as part of a Historical Society that raises money through a Christmas bazaar every year. They take donations of people's used Christmas stuff and sell it. I collect it from people who don't want to haul it back into their attics or basements when it doesn't sell at the yard sale.
- I teach an online class to 6 students. It doesn't even feel like work. I have time to help each and every one of them the way I wish I had time during the school year. These folks can write some business memos -- and their resumes will be phenomenal. It reminds me what teaching could be if it weren't a business.
- I read. This one I actually do a lot of during the year too, but I'm averaging more than a book every two days. It amazes me that people tell me they don't have time to read. Yes.... you do. I will concede that children and jobs may mean you can't take your dog to the dog park every day or grow vegetables in your backyard, but you CAN find time to read. The Crimefighter works ridiculous hours, and he still manages to get through a little Clive Cussler (ew... yuck... I know! But what are you gonna do?) every night before bed.
I guess my larger question is why I even feel the need to justify this? I've gathered a real appreciation for the things we could do if we let ourselves while I'm out of the rat race this summer. It probably does take a hiatus from a job to be able to do everything I get to do (and I do feel fortunate), but every person could find time to do one of these things, if they wanted to. Even after I go back to school in the Fall, I know I'll keep reading, if slower. I hope I'll keep writing. Gardens and Yard sales die with the snows, but the dog walks can continue, if I force myself.
It isn't laziness. It's a realization that your self-worth should not be judged by how much you contribute to the gross national product. I'm made far better by my learning to have patience with my dog than I would be getting someone a drink before dinner. I'm made a much better person by reading Charlotte Bronte (or Nora Roberts for that matter) than I would be ringing up sales in some store somewhere.
We seem to collectively think that our worth is determined not by our productivity but by our financial productivity. I no longer think that is the case. There may be something noble in working, but that work needn't be something others can see.
And I do think we could all do this. How will I be able to take my dog for a daily walk during the school year? By getting up 30 minutes earlier, foregoing checking my email in the morning, or (most likely) by giving up one television program a week. In some ways, DVR is the greatest gift to man since..... the invention of television.
So, I'm done apologizing. I love my summer life. I miss my students a bit, but I know that, come September 9th, I'll be in a better place to help them than I would be without this summer. I fully intend to spend the next three months doing nothing of "consequence," and I think it might just be the most consequential thing I could do.
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