Last weekend I met a woman from a university not too far away who told me she needed a photographer. She saw me sliding my camera into the camera bag at the dog park, and she asked me what I was photographing. I told her I was photographing patterns of light and that I often photographing the woods but manage to keep evolving a different way of looking at the same woods.
We chatted for a while. In the end, we exchanged cell phone numbers. I haven't heard from her, so I boldly went on the university website, found her staff profile and emailed her what I think was a very enthusiastic letter about how I am looking forward to working with her and have perused her website and am confident I can meet her needs and I even offered her a reference and sent her a link to an old newspaper story I covered when I was a freelance photojournalist back in stepford. That was yesterday and I have never checked my emails so frequently while waiting for her response. I really want something to do and I think this might not pay nothing either and I could use some guilt free spending money to buy photo paper with. I would feel alive again if I was working and this part time sporadic situation is perfect for my current full time sit beside the ill person circumstance I find myself stuck in.
Speaking of, yesterday I couldn't take sweet pea for our normal long walk in the morning because she sliced her foot open in what I assume was broken glass in the woods. She is on bed rest and antibiotics for ten days. I assume it was broken glass because from where I sit it looks like a certain population (disc golfers) are purposefully breaking their (illegal to bring and drink in the park) beer bottles so that the dogs get cut because they don't like the dogs. Also because the vet said It's a straight thin cut, looks like glass. Now, it could totally be teenagers at night (an obviously reasonable suspect because teenagers, no concept of consequences) or drunk people on the weekend, or any number of other people. I just happen to see the disc golfers with their beer in hand from time to time. I don't see anyone else, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. Disc golfers just happen to show early in the day like I do. Also the disc golfers have been known to be destructive to the woods by clearing areas for their games, so I automatically dislike them. Anyways, so I have been taking sweet pea for tiny little walks in grassy areas so she doesn't get dirt into the wound and then I find myself back in the house for the bulk of the day. Since the husband is sitting in the family room I feel compelled to sit in the family room too and I realized yesterday that sitting in the family room watching him doze in the chair and zone out to his iPad 2 inches from his face is very similar to sitting by his hospital bed. I am a natural born waiter. How did I get like this? I think the ability to accept this kind of inertia has got to be built in. I might be at my own personal tipping point though. Not sure how much more sitting around doing nothing I can take.
A couple of weeks ago I told a friend that my house was a mess. Which it is. I had been watching the driveway for the chinese food delivery car so I could hop onto the front porch to greet the delivery guy before he could see into my front entry way. That is how bad it was. It might look like the mid stages of a hoarding situation in here. She insisted her house was worse so I sent her some photos. Then she sent me some photos back. I won the embarrassing house contest as far as I am concerned. Then I felt ashamed that my place was such a disaster and I cleaned for a while. I'm telling myself to do a few minutes here and there and most days I do... ok, in all honestly, not most, occasional days I do, but there is part of me which knows that as the husband declines people (like his sister) are going to want to stop by and I really have to get on top of the mess and clear it out. Goal for the day- kitchen area. (That is between checking my email for a response from the university woman)
Comments