I took down my post last night because I didn't want it to be seen as a comment on employers past, current, or future; it was more just me navel-gazing (Anais Nin being the patron saint of navel-gazing) about how an artist moves through the work world.
One thing I miss about being in school was being presented with discrete choices of programs, all timed on approximately the same application/notification/acceptance/initiation schedule. Each program becomes the node for a different life. Once you're in the world of full-time employment (including teaching, probably), you lose that sense of discrete choices. Everything becomes entangled and interdependent, especially as you no longer give yourself permission to live off loans. Each opportunity comes toward you organically, and if you take it you then reshape your life to absorb the shock. Stephanie was nice enough to comment on my post before I took it down, and one thing that she nailed was that it's not really a choice, though I like to think of it in those terms because it provides an illusion of control. You just do what you have to do, and then you do what you have to do to make what you've already done viable.
Today: theoretically, the only thing on my schedule is...writing. Specifically, working through a freelance profile I alluded to back in December. The sky is fortunately gray, so I won't even feel guilty about not leaving the house. Onward!
Oh, and since so many of my recent posts have included themes of "Grumping," Depressing News," etc....I leave you with this:
That's right. Pictures of baby animals. I'm like the wacky aunt who sends you socks for Christmas.