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Winter is coming

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The Starks are assholes. Not because they’re all self-righteous jerks, but because I live in Alaska and their words ‘winter is coming’ has REAL meaning. Long summer days is what we get for enduring 6 months of cold, wind, snow, and darkness. This is what has kept me from converting 3 pretty good blog post ideas into actual blog posts this week. Today, I spent my entire day outside digging holes, building a shed and cooing at some goslings* that I’ll have to cull in the next couple of months. Really, I’d have liked to spent that time inside revising, and getting my WIP ready for beta readers and editors, but not really. It’s amazing out there. The temperature is just a little cool with a breeze making the physical labor that much more comfortable, and the fire-pit this evening feel cozy.

When it’s daylight almost 24 hours/day, it’s tough not to be outside basking in it and making the most of the accommodating weather. So, I’m not blogging much and not writing much, but I don’t feel bad about it. In a few months time, it’ll be blustery and anything needing to be done out of doors will be painful. That’s when I’ll be inside, aggressively plugging away at my computer, resolutely ignoring any outside chore.

* No, we didn’t name any of them Ryan, largely because goslings become geese and the humor would pass.

Photo courtesy: ME!

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I might get a lot more time to write soon – sort of.

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I had written two of these posts, one was good, and the other, well it’s this post. I want to start out by bringing your attention the the following word:

Breadwinner.

It’s a fun word, and it’s so imbued with sexism, it’s almost not worth using. All that said, its something I identify with. Why? Because I’ve spent my entire adult life earning the primary income for my family. Even holding down two jobs at one point to make it happen. I’m apparently about to lose that title. Not because my wife got a kick ass job that pays 50% more than mine, although that would be awesome, no, it’s because today my layoff notice went into the mail. I’ll be receiving it later this week. I don’t need to see it, because I know it’s coming, sort of like a letter bomb that kills slowly, starting with the soul. It’s the first time in my life I’ve been staring down the barrel of involuntary separation from a job. I’m a good worker – received awards, have real accomplishments to point at, and even manage to help my organization become more competitive, in short, I’ve done all of the right things, but I’m still looking at losing my job.

The last day of work is July 1. In theory, it’ll be a temporary shutdown* and I’ll get my job back. That’s all far from certain though. In fact, as the impacts of this shutdown start to come into focus, it’s looking increasingly like I will be among those not asked to return. Basically, I have a month in which I need to begin making plans. Do I just throw in the towel on this job and start seriously looking for another, or would it be better to hang-tight and assume cooler heads will prevail? Assuming the cooler heads will prevail I should be cheering the extra time off and pretend to be a full-time professional writer until I’m allowed to go back to work. Really though, I want to cry because we just finally got our finances in order and we won’t last a month without my paycheck. I can draw a bit of unemployment, but in order to qualify I’ve got to be actively looking for work, and in any case it won’t do much to cover the bills. What all this means is that yes, I will not be working, but I will be even less able to focus on writing because I’ll be working on getting a new job that I don’t really want. Me and some 10,000 other people will be fighting for the same couple hundred jobs that might be available elsewhere.

If the layoff is extended (or permanent), in all likelihood I won’t manage to find a new job that pays more than half of what I make now – Not that I make lot mind, it’s just that I’ll have to start over. Anytime you do that, you’re going to take a few steps back. Practically speaking though, I’ll have to take a LOT of steps back. Turns out I’m too specialized in a field that has 0 application anywhere else – I have dipped my toes into a few applicant pools only to find that my skill-set isn’t a good match for what the hiring organization is looking for.

It may be true that I have this fantasy of becoming a professional writer (by all accounts this is a long-shot, even with a shit-load of hard work), alternatively, I think it would be cool to operate a distillery (I’d like to make whiskey**). At this point an optimist would be telling me to go for it. Shoot for my dreams. I, however, am a realist***, and realistically, I need to make sure my family has food to eat, a place to sleep, and clothes to wear.

I think what all this means is that this comfortable life that we’ve built that affords me a few hours here and there to frantically chase a fairy-tale will go away. On July 2, I won’t be waking up at 9 to pour a cup of coffee and sit at my laptop to be brilliant. I’ll pour the coffee, which may or may not be mostly bourbon, then fire up my laptop to file unemployment, hone my resume, and continue the soul-crushing search for a job. I’ll also be seriously considering alternatives, some of which don’t involve remaining on our little swamp, with our chickens, ducks, geese, and children. Maybe I’ll have some luck and start a successful distillery, maybe I’ll finish a book or two and find success as a writer, or perhaps become a writer or for a game development company, then again, it’s just as likely that I’ll pull up stakes and take on a completely new adventure.

Life is full of uncertainties, setbacks, and heartbreak. For now though, I’m certain I’m going to see about a bourbon, after that, I don’t know, we’ll see.

 

* There’s even a chance things will turn around and I won’t leave at all
** That’s a whole other rant. Do you have any idea how illegal it is to make your own whiskey at home? I’ll give you a hint: If you’re thinking about making whiskey, you might be better off selling crack instead. The laws are more lenient.
*** My wife calls me a pessimist.

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Time out!

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Today I got a break – from pretty much everything. I didn’t work, I didn’t try to build an aluminum shed, write, or mow anyone’s lawn. I should have been doing all of these things in some measure. Instead, I buzzed between home, the hospital, and downtown Wasilla in an effort to take care of home and family.

My eldest son had to have his appendix removed today. It was stressful. He was terrified, and quite contrary to his usual nature, handled without drama. At the moment he’s in the hospital recovering and seems to have come out fine. I brought my laptop and spent a few minutes poking around on my first full rewrite, but really there were other things to worry about. Once he was out of the O.R. I sent my wife home to get a shower, see her animals, and gather essentials for the overnight.* While we watched cartoon network and waited for mom’s return, I looked at my computer bag and didn’t pick it up. The situation reminded me that I work entirely too much.

Working too much is something of a problem in my family. There was a time I was working two jobs and building our house – and that was with a new baby in the house. At the moment, it’s not quite so bad, I’ve only got the one job and I write a lot, then there’s all of those other hobbies, and commitments. I don’t often take a time out for family, at least not often enough.

That said. This weekend it’s my daughter’s dance recital**. I usually take a bit of writing time out for that, but I think I’m going to go a little farther this year. It’ll be game time with the boys too. For the rest of the summer – I’ll get my fishing license and take them fishing, perhaps a night of camping, and maybe even a baseball game. The book will wait, but the kids won’t be kids forever.

Good advice for any full-time working parent & writer: don’t forget to make time for your family.

* In case you’re wondering about what sort of sexist pig I might be at this point. I just want to defend myself with a little vignette: My wife took him to the urgent care this morning, because I was working and she wasn’t yet, and she expected to get some antibiotics or a very stern lecture about fluids and rest. Before the operation we asked our son who he wanted to stay with him overnight. He told us to play rock-paper-scissors to determine – he wasn’t about to take favorites. I told him it would be in everyone’s best interest if mom stayed because she wouldn’t sleep unless was certain he was okay. The only way to ensure that would be to have her there, which is true. For my part, I took the other two, made sure everyone was fed and any farming chores were taken care of.
** This is a BIG deal. It’s held at the Anchorage center for the performing arts and amounts to professional dance experience. It’s such a big deal that even with Influenza B, she insisted on getting all dolled up to go in for her pictures.

photo credit: Time via photopin (license)