What do you want? November 21, 2009
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I talk too much.
I’ve talked too much for so long that I often don’t know where I’m headed when I open my mouth or, in this case, put my fingers to the keyboard. I am tangential, putting way too much thought into it all. I can say in all honesty that I have begun this post 3 times already; each with a different topic altogether, because I want to write something but can’t figure out what that is.
I don’t know how to get to the point. It’s maybe a protective thing? You know, maybe, when asked a direct question, I don’t necessarily want to reveal the truth – either because it’ll hurt me or the person directing the question. Instead, I wind up hemming and hawing until I’ve successfully changed the subject. I’m not dishonest. I’m simply practical.
So, when I’m asked questions like, “What are your goals?” or, “What would you do if [enter variable life-altering scenario here]“, I’m not really programmed to have an answer. It’s not that I haven’t any goals, or that I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up (though, I’m not entirely sure yet); my trouble is in narrowing it down to a bite-sized morsel. I could dance around an answer for days and still not give you anything easily digestible.
I’d like to work on that. So, I’ve decided to work it out here. No one’s reading it anyway, what the hell, right?
What do I want?
I want my kids to want to be around me. I also want them to allow me time to myself when I need it. I want to know that I’m sitting on their shoulders when I’m not around, whispering in their ears, telling them that they’re about to make a mistake - don’t do it – and that they’ve learned a lesson without it having been the hard way.
I want Joe to KNOW that he’s that guy – the one guy I’ve always loved no matter what, even when he’d called to tell me that some other woman was “the one”; through the mess that was their divorce, through the cold-water shock of an unplanned pregnancy that forced the path we’d have eventually taken anyway and then the one that got away; through the million and two unflattering situations a married couple find themselves in over the course of 12 years; through my misstep back into a past better left behind; and, then through every breath and heartbeat ever after – with no doubts. He doesn’t believe that. I wonder if he ever will.
I want to write. I want to be okay with the idea that my writing may take on a different form than I’d once imagined. I want to be okay with the idea that I may not be a writer of books, in the traditional sense of the craft, but that I could just write to write, to engage in writing, for writing’s sake. I’m not there yet. But I think I can see it from where I am.
I want to be better. I want to be right. I want to be beautiful. I want to be smart, and compassionate, and moral, and so I sometimes fake it. I want to be the kind of person who makes a difference, but I’m not. I want to have faith, and I do, but I want to never lose it. My particular brand of faith is not based on any one discipline, any more than I feel anything with just the tip of one finger. I want to be less inhibited. I want to be more sophisticated. I want a car, not a minivan.
I want to be a better daughter to my mom and daddy. I want to be more involved in my family’s lives, but don’t think it would be convenient. I want to not pin myself in the role of baby sister all the time, still. I want my family back together; I don’t want my brothers to find themselves standing over one or the other of our parents the next time they see each other. I want to facilitate their successful reunion, but I’m not strong enough.
And so, I want to be strong! I want to put up a fight when there’s one to be fought! I want to be strong enough to just fucking say it! But that’s not me, and it’s probably for the best.
I want to be Joe’s angel, in the form he feels I am. I want to live up to all that. “God sent you to me,” he says, and he believes I was God’s very own Angel, come to fix his broken heart. For 14 years we’ve been together, and I want to be that but I’m just me.
I want to think about our future, but I’m stuck in today, and trying to recover from yesterday. I want to plan for the life we want to have, not the one we’re living now, and then the freedom to create that.
I want to do things, like see shows and walk through parks and ride roller coasters and explore caves and go to vinyards for tastings and to museums or gardens! I want to make memories that reach way beyond vacations and school pictures. I want to learn guitar. I want to sing, because I miss it.
I want to meet new people and not feel like they see a fraud in me. I want to find security in the center of attention, just once. Lose the fear. I want this list to sound less like a resolution destined to be broken by January 2nd.
And I want to sleep.
Forever and a day November 7, 2009
Posted by melissalobianco in Uncatagorized.Tags: Elance.com, Freelance, multitasking, short attention span, unpublished, Virtual Assistant, Work-at-home, Work-from-home, Writing
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Geez! Has it been that long?!?! What’s everyone been up to while I’ve been gone? You look good!
So, here’s what’s been going on: Freelance. Lemme tell you… the Freelance thing, when it works, is a boon. I LOVE it; and it’s ironic, because back about 11 years ago, I’d tried to initiate a similar work-at-home situation. That – by the way – failed on every conceivable level, though mostly because my son was 2 and I was uber pregnant with child #2 at the time. Focus is lost. Like a recovering addict, one should avoid taking on too much during that tense of a phase in one’s life, lest he be eaten alive by the pressure. So then, Access Office Assistance died. It was quick, very little suffering. No one attended its funeral. It was, alas, far ahead of its time.
In October of 2008, I was folding laundry – as I’m oft’ left to do - and half listening to Philly morning show featuring “Mike and…” some airhead, some “white noise” to feed my short attention span. (This was before the purchase of the new Mac-Daddy fast computer with the super media player and surround speakers, and well before my infatuation with John Mayer cranked to 8+ began, thereafter reinventing my version of “white noise”.) They are interviewing someone who is making a killing working at home. Now, I’m at a point then where I don’t have to be available all the time to entertain a Pre-K kid; my kids still need lots of homework help, but they’re all in school full-time; my husband is working full-time, but the expenses are piling up and that last loan we took out is threatening to bite us in the ass. I needed to contribute to the household coffers.
You have to understand (WARNING! Tangential content ahead), the last traditional job I held (speaking of biting me in the ass) was in 1996. I was working for an attorney who was, truth be told, a great guy. Lazy, but great. Let’s say his name is… Back-stabbing-duplicitous-son-of-a… no, let’s say “Rich” – seems apt. So, Rich wooed me to work for him instead of his partner when that partnership split in ‘94. I followed him; worked WITH him, not so much for him. Good pay. Holiday bonuses. It was a perfect situation.
In 1996, my husband and I found out we were expecting our first child. Long story short: though I did everything I could to ensure medical insurance was in place, and though I drafted a contract to that effect, and though I made him sign it and had his associate witness it, Rich never paid my premiums – not with good checks, anyway. Rich had no problem signing the contract, citing – swear to God, he even said it out loud – “You’re covered. Don’t worry about it, my parents are rich.” Because that’s the kind of thing you can expect of duplicitous-sons-of…
When my eldest was born, I incurred $22K worth of medical bills. And not a one covered by insurance. Bankruptcy ensued. Yes, I sued him. Yes, I won. On paper, it’s victory, but Hell if I can collect from him.
So, I see this story on the Mike and Airhead Show, and here they are touting the virtues of Elance.com. And everything within me told me to check it out. There’re projects there, they say, for every specialty: Administrative Support, Designers, Web Programmers, even something for those of us with a Legal background, formerly screwed-over by our ex-bosses who still practice with a clear icy conscience.
Since then, I’ve been working both through Elance.com and by way of projects that have stemmed from there. I’ve created an entire brand for a company in San Fransisco; I’ve created a killer resume for a “Life Coach” (you’d be surprised how hard that is to feature in a resume) ex-military guy, also in San Fransisco; Proofreading/copyediting for London; rewrote an e-book for a guy in Australia; I have repeat document creation clients in a Real Estate Brokerage in Honolulu, a Real Estate investor in South Carolina and a Real Estate Loan Modification specialist in Wyoming; I’ve got carte blanche to handle paralegal work for an Philadelphia attorney: he’ll just send me files and tell me, “Here. Do this. No worries.” whose lead-generating partner seems to find me on his speed dial. Most recently, I’ve taken on an all-consuming project for a businessman in Miami, which integrates ALL of the most interesting aspects of any of my jobs. I can choose my work now. I’ve gotten to know many of my people, I know their needs. Many are not familiar with the outsourcing game – these are the ones who aren’t familiar with the Timothy Ferriss 4-Hour Work Week way of life. I’m all to happy to work through it with them. Some require more deciphering than others. One sends me an 8-word text message with an attached file; it’s understood I know what to do and will send it back as requested. My people are fantastic. Freelance: it’s a great gig. I’m so busy now – and gratefully so – that I inevitably have to turn clients away. My bills are getting paid. This is tailored to me me me. It means my book project takes a back seat. That’s the only downfall – I can live with that for now. I’m not certain I’m ready for the success/failure of that anyway.
I’m good at what I do, which claim is so much easier to make since I get to pick and choose what I do. I was recently complimented on the quality of my work, which I also take liberty to include my ethic, based on the source of the compliment. “How is it that you only work out of the house?” he asked me.
It’s what I love. I built this. It all came from folding laundry and a short attention span.
So, how ’bout you? What’ve you been busy with???
Missing you this Christmas… December 19, 2008
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Thought I’ve received a few, I regret that I haven’t sent Christmas cards this year. I don’t bake or go caroling, but for a number of years now I’ve reserved the Christmas cards for some special people in my life – mostly from my past.
Each year, the first in the box has been to my High School Chorus teacher, Doris Williamson. She was that teacher who’d believed in me more than I had in myself. She thought more of me then than I did of myself. She called me last January to check in – probably to say goodbye. In March, Mrs. Williamson lost her battle with Cancer. I’d like to send off a card to her husband, Richard, in keeping with the tradition by letting him know I’m thinking of her this holiday and I have so often through the year. I’d like for him to know how much she influenced me, and that I know how much she cared for me.
I pause a lot to think of those we’ve lost over the past year and in recent years. The people who do what they do because it’s in their nature, the Doris Williamsons, the Sensei Kris Rosenthals. These people probably didn’t know what influence they’d had over someone’s life. They just were who they were. Thank God for ‘em.
More and more, I turn to thinking of soldiers this season, too, and of their families who miss them. I wonder whether there can be any punishment worse than being away from your family. Does it get any worse than losing someone you love – to war?
I am grateful this year, as always, for my family and friends. Though the wallet’s empty, I know my family will celebrate together – that’s as lucky as anyone could hope to be.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
