The words have real meaning. Two weeks on days. Two weeks on nights. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. For a family, whose breadwinner finds work in the current economy, it’s a blip–barely an inconvenience, but still an adjustment. Here are ten things I’ve figured out:
- The trajectory of the job search coincides with the time I’ve been writing this book, two years and eight months. I’m not finished.
- I can live with the new schedule. I’m more confident every day.
- When I lose it because I’m lonely, overwhelmed, isolated or bored, working in the garden puts my head back on my shoulders.
- Writing at 5:45 a.m. keeps the self-loathing away. If Bacon can handle alternating shifts, I can get up early to write.
- Conversely, I have to go to sleep at 10:30 every night. Otherwise, 5:45 is impossible. I may not be on his schedule, but I still have to have one.
- The way I used to do housework is impossible. I can’t make a bed when he’s asleep in it, and cooking dinner at three in the afternoon is just dumb. No one will eat it. The learning curve is steep on domesticity.
- The flip side of the night shift is quiet. The kids go to bed, and I have time to think.
- Weekends are wonderful. They mean something again.
- Steady income.
- Two years and eight months ago, I wanted to write a book that would make readers think about what they believe. I get to do that every day.
CRISPLY SPOKEN 