I just got home from having my first creative non-fiction essay workshopped. I wrote about some things that have weighed on me for decades, some things that have been critical in how I see life. It was hard at times to listen to what people had to say. I have a renewed sense of direction, though, which is good.
I came home to find a letter from one of my neighbors urging me to take more of a leadership role in our Homeowner's Association Board. I'm on the Board, which I'm glad to do--I like to be involved--but I joined it with the explicit understanding that I COULD NOT take a leadership role. My instinct is to just do it, to make happen what needs to happen. But the fact of the matter is that I will be gone in May. What good does three months (two, really, as I'll be at conferences most of March) of leadership do? A bit of sticking my thumb in a dam, I'd say. I'm bitter right now. I sometimes feel like I give and give and then get asked to give more. Of course I can say "sorry, no." But in this situation, I'm feeling manipulated. The fact that I'm moving was used as a chip of sorts in this letter. As in, don't I want to make sure everything remains in order as I go to sell my place? Permit another moment of whining. I am about one responsibility away from collapsing into full-on freaked out mode. Ok. That's enough, Missy.
Countdown: 30 minutes until my big day. 16 hours until I pick Neal up at the airport.