Today was one of those days where I wondered again what the universe would like me to do. Wouldn’t it be great if you could just put in a request, like at the grocery store where they have slips that say: what would you like us to carry? and you wrote down: Cocoanut Water and a few weeks later, it appears on the shelf. It just doesn’t work that way.
I love it here. I want to stay here. And it seems like Nevada County really wants me to stay, but I need a new place to live, which means I need a real job . I am trapped in that quandary of service industry work: if i get a job, say at the Briar Patch making 12$ an hour, then I lose what little assistance I have and I can’t afford to pay for child care.
Suddenly I am peppered with offers to make music, people are interested in my writing, I’m meeting new interesting people I want to pursue relationships with and yet my mind keeps telling me to be reasonable and get a grown up job. Somewhere else.
I was at an event today at Sierra Commons for local business people and I found myself chatting with two people, one of whom turned out to be Heidi Hall who is running for congress, and both of them told me they started novels about the area and never finished them. I guess alot of people have this dream. Someone needs to tell the story.
I noticed all over again how many exceptional people are drawn to this area with the hopes of contributing, of striking gold and sharing the bounty. It’s built into the place. And many do. A surprising amount of people do.
I seldom make the responsible choice. Today, I could have sat down and struggled again trying to write a marketing blog about marketing trends in the life sciences. I could have job searched. I could have listed more stuff on Ebay and taken more stuff to the Salvation Army.
Or I could have sat down and wrote another two pages in my novel. Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda.
But I also know that I will never get to the end of my life and think: I should have gone right back to work after Blossom was born. I know I will never feel like this time with her is wasted time. She benefitted already from her first three years here.
I have to believe that even in the thick of this unease it was worth it to be poor so I could be with her every day. And if that means that Mommy never gets a career in marketing, or makes it as an artist, well, tough titty.
Nevada County feels like paradise in a lot of ways. But paradise is illusory.