Monday, May 11, 2009


My husband and I live a lifestyle of role reversal -- I go to work full-time while he stays at home with the kids. Most people balk at this. "But HE should be going to work and letting YOU stay home!" Each time I craftily change the subject, avoiding confrontation for the benefit of both parties. Yet I find myself lately resenting how other people seem to perceive our arrangement. Who are you to tell me how to live my life?! I find myself thinking. This is between my husband and me, and you're not a part of the arrangment!

We have chosen this lifestyle for many reasons, although specifically because I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree. Who do you think is going to earn more money going out to work? Should he get a job so I can put the kids in daycare and/ or after-school care to let a perfect stranger watch my children? Should I let him get a lower paying job than I have so I can stay home and figure out what expenses to cut from our budget? So many more questions present themselves. I have spent far too much time accumulating job experience to increase my net worth to back out on it now. I am forging a career in the field of writing. This is what I choose to do. My husband is waiting out the poor economy until people are willing to pay for his graphical and designing talents. In the mean time, my children have something very critical at home -- their father. He keeps the house together while I bring home the money. What's so horrible about the man doing "woman's work" while the woman does "the man's job?" Honestly? This is the year 2009. This is not 1959. I refuse to become June Cleaver.

Now, if you want me to stay home so desperately, you're going to have to offer me a good chunk of change in exchange for my writing talents. I strive to obtain that lovely lifestyle where I can walk to my laptop and call that my "morning commute." For the moment though, I am not quite far along enough in my career to establish such a wonderful lifestyle. If you don't like how I live my life, I have a great recommendation for you -- don't choose to follow my path.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Disgustingly Hot

Each year, I dread the beginning of the Floridian summer. The days of ninety degree weather seem to sneak up on you, slapping you to the ground as if to push you into an oven. For months, you bake daily. The air conditioner never seems to stop running, and the electric company eyes the meter greedily. My energy costs go up by about 50% each time, and each time I cringe upon viewing the damage. I much prefer the sort of weather that allows you to freely open your windows and enjoy the fresh air in your lungs. In Florida, I don't think I get enough of that.

So settle in with your lemonade, watermelon, ice cream, and bathing suits -- it's summer in Gainesville.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Revisiting the Past

A little over three years ago, I came to the gut-wrenching conclusion that I would not be making it on to vet school. I began my final year working towards a Bachelors degree in English and left behind a fifteen-year-old dream. I knew the day would come when I would have to think about the future that could've been -- the prospective vet school graduation date. On May 23rd, I could have become Dr. Meredith. I could have been in the same job hunting boat as one of my friends (who I have chosen to live vicariously through). I could have been on my way to living and realizing the dream that started within a seven-year-old girl's cheerful mind.

I found myself wondering, "what would I have to do in order to go back and try again?" Foolishly, I caved to that whim today. 22 classes. 60-61 credit hours. The probability that UF no longer offers second degrees to postbaccalaureates. I scour the list, trying to determine when and how I could manage to complete this. I quickly remember why I tucked my tail, reviewed my strengths and weaknesses, and took shelter within Internet Literature. But this small part of me still wishes I hadn't given up on the dream. It was grueling. It was like running into a brick wall head-on repeatedly. But I couldn't let go of the past. I had something to prove. I wanted to save all the sick and injured animals. Even after three years of giving that up, it's still a painful scar lingering.

Of course, one cannot look to the past for the future. If something isn't working, you don't go back and beat yourself to death running into the same brick wall again.