With So Much Time to Think, COVID May See Some Seismic Changes in Our Lives.
#writersinquarantine #Writerslife #writingcommunity #amwritingwomensfiction #womenshealth
I got an email from my employment agency yesterday, just touching base and seeing if I was still available for assignments. The email said they didn’t have any work at the moment but would let me know when they did. This made my heart sink for two reasons, firstly, because I don’t have a job to go to and secondly, because one day I will.
While it is not sustainable for my family to live on one income for the long term, the prospect of resuming my 9 to 5 existence doesn’t have much appeal. The thought of squeezing back into a business suit and doing battle with peak hour traffic makes me want to pull the doona back over my head and press the snooze button on my alarm.
Being at home has been a novelty for me. I have always worked 9 to 5, even when my children were small and I have always craved more time at home. The end of the Monday to Friday working week leaves me shattered, with little time or energy to do the things I want to do.
Now, I wonder how I managed to cram the most important parts of my life around that 38 hour block of time: the 9 to 5 working week. That voracious, soul sucking monster who is never satisfied, is was always demanding more.
A year ago, I left a job where I was comfortable but extremely unsatisfied. Since then, I have been in a couple of jobs which seemed the right fit but despite my best efforts, just didn’t work out and I had no choice but to leave.
For many women in their fifties, the way they have always done things seems to stop working and they begin casting around for something new. Their children grow up and no longer need them, the careers they have become proficient in no longer satisfy them and they no longer give much of a crap about what anybody else thinks.
Comedian, Billy Connolly, once said that women are like trees, always branching out and growing, spreading out in all directions and reaching for new sources of nourishment. His own wife, comedian Pamela Stephenson, is testament to this. She became a psychologist later in life before taking up round the world sailing and Latin dancing.
With life lessons learned, skills acquired and wisdom gained, the later middle years can be a time of rebirth for many women. We are smarter, stronger, tougher than ever before and we are no longer afraid to pursue our dreams.
I cast my eye over the email again, racking my brain for an appropriate response. I don’t want to cut ties completely, but I really don’t want to go back.
I do some calculations, and although it will be tough, I reckon I can manage to stay home and write for another couple of months. Give it a red hot go.
My husband finishes his work for the day and I sit him down for a serious chat. I know that ditching paid work to write a novel makes about as much financial sense as buying a tattslotto ticket.
But I want to do it anyway.
Although my husband has always been supportive of my writing, I am bracing myself to hear his objections. But he says, “Sure, no worries. You probably don’t have much other choice, anyway.”
And so the decision is made.
I will devote the next few months to writing my second novel, and I’m going to give it a red hot go.
I go back into the spare room, where I do my writing and retrieve the plan for my second novel, the one I abandoned about a year ago.
Sometimes we choose change, sometimes it’s forced upon us and maybe sometimes, it’s just meant to be.