A girl can dream

You know how I only work 2-3 days a week? Supposedly that means I have so much extra time on my hands.
This week this morning Otis wakes up with red goopy eyes. He can't go to school. We get a 9:30 Dr. appt and it turns out he just has a nasty scratch on his eye. He gets back to school at 11:30.

The week before my van is in the shop when my back-up car, the 2004 Land Rover, practically bursts into flames 8 miles from my house. That was a very long 8 miles back to the house in a truck with a non-working water pump.

The week before the dog wakes up bleeding out of a huge swelled up lesion on her cheek. That meant the morning at the vet and a couple of follow up appointments.

How could I do all that while working full time?

I've applied for several full time jobs, even had a job offer once, but I couldn't pull the trigger on a commitment that large.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever venture back into the real world with a high-power responsibility holding job. I see other people with suits and fancy shoes  and ID badges and sometimes I am envious and of their large regular paycheck and other times I wonder why they have committed so much of their time and their lives to an entity that they likely don't have much control over.

I may have resigned myself to the life of a part time working mother, but still I dream of the life of a writer: Meetings in New York with my editor, sending manuscripts back and forth with things to correct and research, spending time at the library with a deadline and a story to finish while a Flagstaff snowstorm swirls outside the windows, large royalty checks coming in the mail that will dwarf my paltry school district salary and enable my family to take summer long research trips to exotic locals while I write, and attending signing events at conventions all year long.

I'm gonna dream it and I'm gonna do it.
A writer's life would still allow me plenty of time for broken-down cars, and sick kids and pets right?