I used to have this dream that I’d just received a large sum of money – enough that I’d be able to quit whatever horrible, soul-sucking job I was doing at the time and live large if I wanted to. In the dream I’d be flooded with a feeling of relief and joy, knowing that suddenly my time was my own. The endless hours I was spending every day doing data entry, or talking to angry bank customers, or listening to an overly-critical, micromanaging boss were no longer going to be wasted hours. They would be mine, all mine.
Then I’d wake up.
I’d lie in bed wanting to cry, realizing that once again I was going to have to get up, get dressed, and trudge myself into whatever dreadful office I was working in at the time. The feelings of self-pity and resentment would nearly consume me that day. If my boss called me in to tell me my performance wasn’t up to par, I’d nod vaguely and think, “Well, duh. I hate this place.”
This morning I had a different dream. I dreamed that I was at one of the worst jobs I’ve ever had – cold-calling companies to try and get their business. This job was a step up from the job I’d had previously – cold-calling people in their homes to try and get their business – but it was still absolutely awful. In the dream I’d reached the end of a work day, and realized I’d only made one call. Just one. So not only was the job atrocious, but I was also failing miserably at it. My boss asked to speak with me about the day’s performance, and I had to agree that my behavior was inexcusable. I was left feeling defeated and frustrated beyond belief.
Then I woke up. And I was flooded with feelings of relief and joy, knowing that the job I was on my way to this morning is the complete opposite of the one in my dream. My current job at a Montessori school is fulfilling, rewarding, and challenging in ways which enrich my life beyond measure. This job has an easy rhythm to the day, and supportive coworkers who truly want me to succeed. It has taught me ways of interacting with my kids at home that are constructive, and actually doable. And the methods don’t just work on cranky toddlers, they work on cranky adults too (“I can hear that you are frustrated. Are you feeling frustrated? Okay, let’s find a way to let that frustration out without hurting our friends…”). It is bliss.
Am I tired at the end of my work day? Yep. Do I walk out of the school feeling relieved to be escaping all of that crying for a few hours? Good god, yes. And I think that may be why I had that dream this morning – yesterday as I walked out of the toddler room and past the infant rooms I could hear several little voices filled with rage, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. But what the dream has reminded me is that even when I need a little break from this job, I don’t mind going back. And even though I’ve been feeling the itch to retrieve my identity as a writer, I don’t need to leave this job to do it.
When I first started, I explored the idea of maybe getting my Montessori certifications and becoming an actual Montessori teacher. It would take a few years to do, and involve a certain amount of stress and tricky schedule coordination, but I pondered it. I decided to give the job six months first – if I still felt like another change in careers was the way to go after I’d been waist-deep in poop and angry tantrums for six months, then I’d look into it. That mark is coming up, and when I did a little soul-searching last week, the only thought that floated to the surface was, “What I really want is to get my schedule down to four days a week so I’d have a day to write.” Which is a pretty clear answer, I think. I love my new day job, but I’m a writer, and that’s all there is to it.
I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve only written six chapters of The Pointy Hat Resistance, and four of those chapters are crap. No really, they’re total crap. I love my writing – seriously, sometimes I open The Pointy Hat Brigade, or Magic Without Spells, thinking I’ll read one chapter just to get back into the rhythm, and an hour goes by without me even realizing it. I totally dig my own books – which is good, because why the hell would I write them if I didn’t love them, right? So I think you’ll understand the ramifications of the fact that when I read Resistance, my mind wanders. I start pondering how much I have to read before I can go do something else.
If I’m not hooked by anything in those chapters, no one will be.
So I’m scrapping it, and starting over. I’m going all the way back to character motivations and flaws and arcs. Luckily my kids are going to be gone for most of the summer, and I’m going to need to fill those kid-less hours with something other than binge watching shows on Netflix. Plus there’s nearly an hour every day at work after my lunch break when the toddlers are still asleep, the room is already cleaned, and there’s nothing to do but wait for them to wake up. At present I usually play dumb games on my phone, or read a book, but it occurred to me recently that this is time I could use to write. So I bought a refurbished iPad with a keyboard case, and I’m going to fill that hour every day with my characters.
I can have my dream job, and write too. I can have both of my dream jobs.
I’m back, baby.