I haven't posted much lately, because I feel like I can't keep my head on straight. I've started about five different posts--posts about the guilt of motherhood, the paralyzing anxiety of the job market, posts about the way that Little Man's laugh turns me to jelly just moments after I was ready to run away, posts about the profile pictures people choose on facebook, posts about what it's like to realize that I'm in a different place than I was when I was 23, that I'm no longer 23.
But I just can't seem to write them--not in any sort of coherent or interesting way. I start to write and what comes out seems trite at best, boring at worst.
I feel muddled and stuck, but I'm not sure why.
Today, I hacked away at a tree. It looks better and I feel better from the sunshine and the warm weather. Too many things are swirling right now for me to focus on any one.
I have a chapter than needs finished, but lately I've been reading books about teaching. I've been trying to figure out what kind of teacher I am and what kind of teacher I want to be. J is a wonderful teacher. He even has a reputation in the small program he's been teaching for the last three years. It's a good reputation, and his students seem to genuinely like him and his classes.
But I don't even really want to write about teaching. It's just at the surface.
I talked to my baby brother yesterday. It's been a while, so hearing from him was good. He's out on the edge of the world, trying to make a life that he can call his own. And I think he will.
Something is on the verge, I think. Something is either going to coalesce into a whole that I can identify and grab or it will burst into a thousand tiny pieces and I'll have to start all over.
But for now, the sun is warm and the sky is blue, and the baby is napping.