The song of the weary…

As y’all probably noticed, it’s been a while! I went from my first act of true feminist activism to….radio silence. My bad! Work got busy, then I headed out of Dodge for a visit to the homestead/Nation’s capital/Colonial Williamsburg/Nats Park, then back to work, then Bad News and Utter Demoralization, then the bounceback, and here I am, just two weeks later, ready and raring to get back to your regularly scheduled adventures and commentary!

But first, to sum up:

The home visit – I headed home on a Thursday night after getting to see some of the Mayor’s empire from the inside. It was like a space office. With no walls. Friday I devoted to a loooong walk down and around the National Mall, live tweeting all the way. It was great to see the sights and sites I hadn’t really devoted one-on-one time to in years, plus it was a bright sunny day in the freshly pollenated air. Then a last minute opportunity to hit up Williamsburg with My Gal Sal popped up and away we roadtripped. Sally is one of those rare people I can travel with for days and still want to speak to during AND afterward. We strolled, we gamboled, we engaged in awkward conversation with historical re-enactors and the 3Qs who love to ask banal questions about outdated taxes, ate at Sonic for 4/5 of our meals over two days, listened to music, watched crappy rom-coms and giggled. Oh, how we giggled. Sunday we drove back to No.VA just in time for me to meet up with the Aged P and Gigantor for the greatest pitching meltdown in the history of spherical objects, and Monday I hopped aboard Vamoose and betook myself home.

Where I waited, checking my email every 2 minutes or so until I finally got the opposite of the Big News I was hoping for – I applied to Teach for America, and had just about reconciled myself to the idea of leaving Brooklyn and the MTA for parts unknown and certainly un-Hop-Stop’d (I kid – I was seriously excited, and wanted this opportunity more than I’ve wanted anything…ever)… but I didn’t get accepted. Made it to the final in-person interviews and everything, but it was just not in the cards for me (this year?). And so Monday-Wednesday were days of Darkness and Dudgeon. Anyone who said ANYTHING to me on the street got a glare and probably some graphic instructions about where to what one’s self. K-Cup and I hit the local banh-mi place AND the new sketchy Mexican taco joint on two successive nights to work through the sting of it.

Then I watched the episode of the West Wing where Josh Lyman seriously screws up (oh, that one?) and gets benched, and when he finally got called back into the line-up, my inner MKP, who’d been taking a backseat and letting the Crazy Brain drive the Demoralization Train, stood up, brushed the therapy crayon wrappers off her lap and said, "Ok, we’re back in the game." 

Now I don’t know what’s going to follow my year of service. To tackle grad school, I need some more undergraduate coursework to fill out an English degree. To get a job in the nonprofit sector I’m going to have to find an aspect of nonprofits I actually like – like a direct service position, maybe as a tutor, something where I’m out working with people in an education field. Ditto to a government job. When I finish my year at the end of July, I get an education stipend and a year of non-competitive government status, so that should help. And there’s always freelancing copyediting, maybe even reviewing, some voice lessons and continuing to assist in the art workshops that I’m doing now.

Anyway, the point is to follow your dreams, kids. Stay off the sauce, don’t touch the third rail and mind the gap, and we should all be five by five. And always listen to Dr. Abby Bartlet.

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