Pushing the Bus Uphill and Juggling Bacon

When I was a teenager I was obsessed with Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. As a (mainly) "good", but also quietly rebellious, sheltered suburban kid, I was equally repelled by and attracted to the grungy hippies on the bus. Their disdain and lack of respect for authority was both scary and enticing. Their general bad manners were so rude and so thrilling. I knew that even though I was still shy and sheltered, one day I would be an ass kicker. An artist. Living on the fringes and following my ideals. Not caring about the conventional mainstreamers.

So, that didn't happen. I became a lawyer. A corporate lawyer. For the Man. In fact, for the Mannest of the Mans --the drug industry. Also, I became a suburban mom-- which was my favorite of my full time jobs-- to a now 17 year old son and 20 year old daughter. I adore my two varmints and promise to only embarrass them to the extent they permit me to. They say I am not cool, but I don't believe it. They still seem to tolerate me fairly well and are ok hanging out with me in public. I did take them to see Radiohead recently so I am kind of lit right? (Can you be a kind of lit?) And I don't mean "high"-- so any snarky giggling kids can just pipe it. I mean lit as in awesomely cool. Also I just like that word and have been waiting for an opportunity to use it even though old people are not supposed to use teen slang, because we ruin everything. I have also been dying to use "salty." As in, "Why are you being so salty, Mom? Stop nagging me. Also, close the door behind you." Or as in "My teenage son is salty a majority of the time."

Anyway, I lived in a very big suburban house (aka a McMansion) and now have "downsized" to a slightly smaller big suburban house. I have been a wife to another lawyer. To be clear, I am proud of my accomplishments. I will even go toe to toe with you if you want to challenge me about working for the pharmaceutical industry (which happens almost everywhere I go). My career has been a worthwhile career, and I have worked with many people I respect and admire, and made lifelong friends. Find me an unblemished workplace and I will show you to my home office where presently I am the best boss to my sole, outstanding employee.... myself. But, regardless of all the good stuff I had to appreciate, my life was nothing like how I imagined it as a young woman. In college, I planned to be a writer. Then, in law school, I was gonna be a public interest and activist lawyer. Then, maybe a philanthropist. Later, Mother Theresa!

Shocking as it sounds, as a corporate lawyer, I was not living my dream. I was overworked, overstressed and overextended. As a little girl, that 70s perfume commercial told me I was supposed to bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and never never never let my man forget his romance. Or something like that. Because it was an ad with a pretty lady singing and holding a frying pan, the little girl me believed it was true and possible. However, as a grown woman, I learned that doing all this stuff with bacon was, of course, impossible. For me, and most working human women I know, it was simply impossible to be Cookie Baking Volunteer Classroom Mommy, Fierce Business Executive, Sexy Romantic Partner and Breadwinner and and and and and.......I failed so many times and so often while trying to juggle all this bacon throughout the years that it is amazing I kept picking myself up and moving forward despite the shame.

Now I realize that my brain was in an overdriven state of near constant anxiety. I didn't have the luxury of focusing on one single damn thing at a time. Interruptions were constant -- at home and at work. My brain always had to occupy at least two realms, maybe more. Women often boast about how we love and are great at multitasking. It's true -- we rock at it. But I call bullshit on the loving it part. We are great at it by necessity. Some of us would love five uninterrupted minutes to contemplate our shoe or complete a task. Even now, as I write this, I am being interrupted to dash off on another glamorous junket to urgent care because, apparently, my salty son would rather smash his finger in a door than attend to his chore list. Seems to me to be a very dramatic ploy to avoid taking out the recycling. In any event, the finger looks like it might fall off, so I better go. I will be back a bit later to finish a thought.

Ok, it's later.

Where the hell was I? What was I talking about? Oh, yes, his nail was smashed pretty good, but no need for amputation. Although he was back getting x-rayed for so long I was not so sure, and then I just forgot why I was there. Those docs do a really interestingly gross thing nowadays where they drain the blood from under the nail. Not for the squeamish though. But back to my narrative.....if I can remember what I was talking about.

Ah yes, back to how I have first world privileged lady problems and was somehow not fulfilled. While I appreciated my material advantages, and of course having healthy children and a spouse who was proud of, and yet not threatened by, my career (but who happily left the domestic duties almost entirely to me) -- I was frustrated and angry all the time. Especially at my husband. I did not want to perform a stressful job all day and come home and be the household CEO. I couldn't tolerate the role of him as assistant/helper and he couldn't tolerate my near constant seething passive aggressive rage. Now, after 25 years of best friendage and marriage, of growing up together and raising two phenomenal kids, he and I are in transition. We are separated and trying to figure out if there is a path forward together. At this point, it remains unknown. But, I am ready to finally "follow my bliss". I am lucky to have some skills that have contributed mightily to a nice lifestyle and enabled me to be a good role model to my kids. I have liked my career, but it was never my passion.

I feel like I am in my senior year of college, but I forgot to declare a major, and I have no idea what I will do upon graduation. It is both terrifying and exhilarating. But I am finally ready to kick some ass and be unapologetic about being an ass-kicker.

Most importantly, below is a photo of my lab mix, Bowie. This was taken about a year ago when we rescued him. He is my shadow, and a great help around the house. Well, no, he actually has never done one helpful thing, unless chewing on the furniture is helpful. But I know he would be super helpful if he had thumbs. He has this look on his face like he really wishes he could help. Absent thumbs, he mainly performs the dual functions of being lovable and fairly demanding, but I did convince him to sign a blanket consent permitting me to publish any photos of him I want to. Also, he won't sue me if I embarrass him because he can't be embarrassed. As my kids often remind me, he's not a human, he's a dog! Bowie has nothing whatsoever to do with my first post, but you have to admit he is adorable. Also, I hear it is extra lit to incorporate cute animal photos and stories about animals in blogs-- so he will be visiting a lot. If you don't like dogs -- or my dog specifically-- you should go ahead and follow one of those soulless, dogless blogs instead. I am pretty open minded, but there is no room in my heart for dog haters like you. And yeah, I promise I will not use teen slang incorrectly any further. I hear you -- old people just ruin it and suck out all the coolness. So until next time: peace out, stay lit and don't be so salty!

Bowie

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Immigration Policy Protest