...On being an absentee blogger
Because we all know that, around here, that's pretty much the status quo. There's not much to say besides that, in spite of myself, I continue to censor myself. And maybe that's not the worst thing in the world in terms of keeping the various (sometimes fragile) peace/s.
...On being a soccer mom
Yep. That day has dawned. I always kind of figured that I'd somehow dream up some way of evading this particular aspect of motherhood. My lack of social graces when it comes to mommy groups is a particularly strong motivator in this particular regard. If it didn't mean risking driving drunk and placing my child/ren at risk, I imagine I'd develop a sudden interest in hip flasks.
That said, I'm very impressed with my Michael, who is showing a fair amount of talent. And as much as I am loathe to stand around next to the field & make nice with the other moms, I will be there to support my boy as often as I can.
...On being a worker bee
Yeah, maybe not so much. I resigned from my job yesterday, for a number of reasons - none of which I am at liberty to go into in any depth at this point. Let's just say that dynamics have shifted and priorities and allegiances changed. As always, though, it's never as simple as that being that. There are, of course, developments and you can count on there being more to be said on this later.
...On being the bad guy
While much of the shit that's been and will be going down on the work front is exciting and promising, there have been a number of dampening factors, too, not least of which is the collateral damage. Today, I learned what it feels like to be the centrifugal cog in a machine that just rumbles ahead, crushing anything and everything (and anyone!) in its path.
I will never be placed in that position again.
...On being around
Believe it or not, I am around. I'm reading blogs (and commenting, too, albeit rarely) and checking in on Twitter and generally visiting all of my usual haunts on the interwebs. But I'm also laying low. Sometimes because duty demands it. Sometimes because I just feel like it. And sometimes because I have nothing to say.
I guess I have a tendency to withdraw a bit when things get rough. (Don't we all?) And I guess that, as long as I'm not saying it out loud, I can keep pretending that this hasn't been going on for much longer than I care to admit.
I used to think the image of a pair of wolves circling one another, sizing each other up for the fight, was terribly romantic. But that black dog and I have been circling and circling for so long now, that all I feel is disoriented and drained.
Still, I am here. And if the black dog is going to win, then it sure as fuck ain't gonna be because I chickened out of the challenge.