Folding the Map

Lately my life feels like a map. I've always been very good at map-reading. But that was when I knew where I was and where I wanted to go.

Lately I have no idea what the destination is or should be. My thoughts and plans change daily. "If this, then that" goes through two dozen permutations each day.

If I get a job and can stop accepting social security and let my allotment grow. If the banks would lower my interest rate, I could pay the bills. If I don't get a job, I'll have to declare bankruptcy. If I declare bankruptcy and survive the humiliation, I'll feel much less stress in my life. (And, of course, my favorite: If I win the lottery, I can do all sorts of charitable things AND pay my bills AND take a vacation to South Africa.)

My sons have always called me "The Queen of the Backroads." I love taking circuitous routes and exploring the countryside, memorizing how I got from here to there. My dear IBM buddy in Rochester, who has known me for 30 years now, calls me a survivor. Getting through this stage of my life is requiring both those skills—being a quick learner and hanging in there.

My friend down the street (She's so much more than that, but telling you about all the wonderful new friends who took me right in when the Jazzman fell in love with me is several blog posts in itself!) shot me a quick e-mail yesterday telling me I'd like the Writer's Almanac for that day. So I share it here.

I worked one hour last week. I'll log maybe eight hours this week.

I may not know the destination, but I can still fold the map.