I miss the people, of course. That is a given. The co-workers. The boss. (I’m still married to him, but he works for The Man now, and l can’t go with him.)
I especially miss the ones we served in our little country medical clinic.
Less obvious things are missing, too. Like the paycheck. And the telephone. I find it so difficult to do business on a cell phone. I did miss the copier. (Scandalous thought!) But my patron just bought me a tiny, new laserjet printer that copies like a boss. I’m so happy about that machine. I think I’ll name it.
The first time I realized how deeply this problem went, I was staying with my mother in the hospital after her small stroke. (She is doing well; thanks for asking.) One morning, I went to the dining room just as all the administrators and assistants were clocking in. Instead of being grateful that I could spend the night with my mom, I felt this sudden pang. I wanted to go to work. I wanted the structure of an office job. I wanted the to-do list, and the supply closet, and the security of Heather, Leslie, Anna, Lenna, Aimee, and Erika working in the next room in case I felt a sudden urge to process my life out loud.
As I mentioned, I am one of the few blessed artists in the world who has an actual patron. A person who believes so completely in my writing that he goes to work every day and supplies me with things like pencil and paper, computer and printer. Food, clothes, a home. And freedom. Freedom to think, to dream, to write, to doodle. To sit with my mom. I wish everyone had such a patron, the way Michaelangelo had the Medici’s. (Mine loves me extravagantly. I don’t think Michaelangelo had that.)
So, I solved most of the problem. I set up a little office in our Spare-Oom. It lacks a few things, like a good chair, but it has given me the structure that I craved. Now, I don’t get distracted by household projects when I look up from editing a paragraph. And, fortunately, I’m only a few minutes away from lunch with my friends. It would appear that I now have the best of all worlds. And, no excuses for failing to finish my next novel on time.
This is so good! I miss my office in Fresno (and Kirksville) as well. It took me 3 years to get one here and now I am losing it in May. I guess I’ll just pretend you are in the room next to me as I work. So glad your mama is doing well!
Oh, that is a good idea! We can pretend we are just down the hall from one another like back in the day.
I still treasure the early morning talks we used to have. I learned so so much from you!
Spare-Oom ❤️ Glad your mom is doing better and that you found a new space.
Thanks, Ruth. Still praying for your sweet mama and the family.
I miss working together SO much! I often counter those feelings by reminding myself that at least I still get to have you and Doc in my corner of the world at all. 🙂
I actually have a couple of co=workers that I am still close friends with. It is marvelous to get together and talk about the good ole days. And the other co-workers. Like what ever happened to Dave the construction guy? Or how many kids did Dave & Ruth’s grandkids have now? Most of the time we don’t really know because we haven’t keep in touch with them. But we still can laugh as we have the same silly memory that only we share. Not the same when you explain it to someone that wasn’t there when it happened.