Daily Archives: July 9, 2002

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Cheers to Rob, who in this time of many persons being laid off, got a job yesterday. And it’s even kind of associated with what he trained to do. Hurrah!

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This is one of those mornings where I looked around at my life and started to panic again.

Marriage can be a wonderful thing, but it also means you have double the problems to deal with since it’s sharing the not-so-good as well as the good. It’s all very well to say “Chin up!” and “Think positive and things will unfold that way,” but every once in a while when you’ve gradually convinced yourself that yeah, things aren’t so bad, and we can handle life, and we’re pretty on top of things, something creeps up and hamstrings you.

On top of that I woke up with a stiff neck again, and no osteo appointment for another two weeks. I didn’t do anything, I swear!

To cheer myself up, I keep trying to remember that two very dear friends have asked us formally to become their new daughter’s guardians should anything happen. I get a rush of warmth and dewy eyes every time I think about it. The trust implied in the request touched us deeply, and I believe that it’s among the highest compliments anyone be paid. The term “guardian” suits us just fine as well – an older term might have been “godparents”, but in our lifestyles the concept of a guardian is much more appropriate. She’s not our daughter, but both of us would do pretty much anything to keep her happy and safe, whether her parents are around or not – and that was before we were asked to officially be named guardians. The idea that her parents have invited us to play that important a role in her life is awe-inspiring – almost as awe-inspiring a miracle that is a baby itself.

Of course the request led to my husband and I discussing our own plans for a family, which actually got pretty bleak. Since we got married we’ve been saying, “We’ll see where we are in another two years,” and there we are, circling right back to the problems we’re having staying afloat, never mind on an even keel. My yardstick for starting a family is simple: Can we take care of ourselves properly? If no, then thanks for playing, please ask again in another few months. If yes, then go on to question #2, which is, Could we take care of a third party? It doesn’t help that the knowledge that I’m not working this summer keeps worming its way into my Protestant-work-ethic-staurated moral makeup: something somewhere in my brain is screaming because I’m taking a sabbatical. I know it’s necessary for both my back and my brain, since burnout was sapping what productivity I was managing to display, but in the end, deep inside, I keep saying, Yes, but you’re not working. It seems a waste of time, but I think it’s going to take me all summer to come to terms with the fact that not holding an official job is not going to make or break our financial life, so peanut-like was the pay in my retail position.

Listening to the final movement of Bach’s sixth Brandenburg Concerto makes things seem brighter, somehow. And it’s all the more soothing because it’s on the radio, and came as a surprise. It’s difficult to be negative when you’re listening to Bach. It’s even more difficult to be negative when you’ve just brewed a fresh pot of tea and you’ve taken two muscle relaxants, which means I should be delightfully drowsy in about fifteen minutes…