January 25, 2016. In a dark, dark box.
There’s this trunk I have that has been kept in many places, used for a “table” for my printer or books since somewhere around 1991-1993 when I quit knitting and left the home I thought I would always live in.
Sunday Night
On a Sunday, January 24, 2016
Sometimes people I meet ask me, “How do you like Port Townsend?” People I used to know ask me, “How do you like Port Townsend?” I ask myself the same.
Moving On
When I first moved out here to the opposite side of the country, I decided to make a website that would have a “digital portfolio” so I could apply to big-time high-paying high-times big-paying part-time jobs in Seattle. It only took me two years to get it to the point I could put a link to it in a job application.
Reading and Deleting
Marketing Email
The email ads say “Reinvent Yourself” or “Jumpstart Your Career” or “Make It Big in 2016” and all I want to do is be myself and keep my career on a steady path, or at least idling. I’ve made it big enough and it doesn’t last. I have gotten to points where I wanted to reinvent myself, or what I called wanting to “change my life” which was the “old school” way to say it I guess. And I have and I did and it’s impossible. Being me is all I can do.
But there is a missing element. What is me? It’s not about “Who am I?” It’s about what is in me that matters. That counts. That transcends the old age and the ability (or current inability) to get a job. That is the part of me that is the engine of the who that I am.