In a way, my father was right. Partnering with a black man would make my life more difficult. He warned that my children would get made fun of, for instance. He didn’t predict that my 4Runner would get a swastika keyed in the passenger side in Las Vegas, or that I would be given my deposit back & asked to leave my new apartment minutes after my boyfriend came for a brief visit and look at the place. Fear is still running rampant in the world, and I’m still running into it head-on.

It seems I was fated to move into the place I’m moving into tomorrow. Although it was 1.5 miles further from my job, in a worse neighborhood, and $175 more per month, I felt bad about saying no to it, and asked the sweet woman who showed me her home for her contact information “just-in-case” the new place didn’t work out. I called my parents today, and they joked whether I was moving again since I had just called them yesterday to tell them I had moved from Treasure Island. Ha, ha, I don’t think so, I told them. Not an hour later, and I was moving again. So hopefully fate is directing me to this new home for a good reason.

I’ve been thinking more about what I want to do with my life. I keep saying (and feeling) that my biological clock is ticking, and that I really want to have children NOW. But I’m also considering where I am in my life, and what really makes sense right now. Should I wait 2+ years for things to settle down with my boyfriend’s job, and to progress our relationship along? What do I do in the meantime? How can you plan your life around an event that will be happening maybe, SOMETIME in the next 10 years?

I’m thinking if I had a choice, my next move would be to Washington, D.C. I could still keep my morning job, if needed, and pursue temp work with different agencies to get some exposure in the area. Or, I could put an application in with a government agency and start the 9-5 life back up again. But one thing that bothered me about working at a large corporation was the 2 weeks vacation per year. It’s like President Bush’s comment that working 3 jobs is “uniquely American.” Sad and true.

Why do we need to work so much to support ourselves? Now, I’m not against working hard. Anyone who has known me for any substantial amount of time can attest to that. I just think that progress should look like becoming more balanced between family & work life. All our inventions and efficiencies and progress have not resulted in less work for the average American.

And if 8 hours are spent sleeping, and 8 are spent at work (let’s just bump that to 10, which is probably more accurate), that leaves 6 for commuting, eating, errands, other committments, entertainment, learning, free time (what?), and oh, yes, family & friends.

So my fear in settling back into a career-type-job is that I won’t love it enough to agree to forfeit some of the things in the 6-hour column. I must admit, my current lifestyle choice of a self-employed person isn’t exactly providing me the amount of free time I desire either, so what is there to lose?

I do know that I DO NOT want to work a 9-5er while raising children until school-age. So that takes 5-10 years out of my earning potential. I made this very clear to my current boyfriend, actually within hours of meeting him! But here I go talking about children again, with no promise of any such thing in the near future, though it’s the one task I’m perfectly made to do. It is enticing in a big way, in that it promises a diversion, or a relief from the burden of deciding what course of action to take next in my life. I don’t clearly see what it is I’m supposed to be doing with my next few years, and it frustrates me to no end.