I was accused of writing cutesy posts lately. I didn’t really agree with the statement, but then again I barely think about my posts these days.

I suppose glossing over my schedule and responsibilities in a whir of to-do lists doesn’t quite strike the chord of scared, exhausted determination I feel 24-hours a day to be the best.

I gave up a very well-paying career, and certain government clearances that assured almost always a higher-paying career. I grew up rather poor and I made many decisions in life - such as the degree in physics with only a minor in creative writing - based on the fact that I never wanted to be poor again. I’m following my heart big-time right now and it feels right. But the mortgage payments still are due. The AC still needs to be run. I still need to eat. I’m making sacrifices and depleting a little nest egg and I’m mostly OK with that. I think as long as I don’t relax too much, as long as I don’t feel like I gave up my job in order to sit around the house and watch UPN, I’m more OK with that.

(I’m aware this is a theme done to death here and one of the reasons I’ve been quiet about it. But almost every day I’m required to do something on this front - particularly the difficulties I had getting into classes and scheduling are already true for the fall as well and I’m doing my best to be proactive and persistent. So it’s on my mind almost constantly.)

ST and I are going to the panhandle this weekend to stay at his grandparents’ cabin where I will meet his parents. After the initial nerves wore off, I am really looking forward to this. While I usually am pretty confident parents like me, this time I’m not sure and I’m OK with that. This isn’t showtime. This is real life. I’d rather just be myself, treat ST well, and let judgement come as it may.

But my point was, originally I had planned to be at the sanctuary Saturday morning. Then I would drive an hour to his place, shower, drive six hours to the cabin, and show up in time for dinner. We’d then have a good twelve hours before repeating the process. And I thought this would work. I thought it would be fine. Just like all the other times I’ve tried to cram family events into weekends when I was also volunteering.

ST, in his wisedom and love, was fine with this arrangement. I let it mull over in my head for a day or so, already stressed about timing and traffic and could I get anything accomplished in a few hours out there and feel good about leaving. Then I decided I am too fucking old to be a martyr again and we are now leaving for the cabin Friday night. The sanctuary will survive without me, probably even run smoother without someone frantic to leave so early in the day. This is probably a no-brainer to most people out there, but it was hard for me and part of my learning process. I made him a promise. I haven’t always been great at keeping these kinds of promises.

I suppose it could come across cutesy as I try to gloss over the fact that I’ve met someone whom feels about me as I feel about him and that feeling is something I pretty much decided I didn’t believe in. Especially when this means I have to contemplate things I thought were long dead options in my life.

I have no problem considering myself a wife in private. Or his property for that matter, as I am confident I can consider him mine. But once we step out into society, I’m less certain. I always assumed I’d take a man’s name again, but I’m having such a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I must give my family and heritage. (I’m reading this book to try and get some perspective. Any other reccommendations would be appreciated.)

There are also children to consider, which is something for a very long time I was adament against. And it’s one thing to contemplate babies when you have a stable career, and little extra perks like health insurance. But I am on a pretty tight schedule to get a new degree and establish myself in a field that frankly is a lot more fluid than my last. I was looking forward to field work and full passports and cross-country drives to the next national park. Which is not to say I couldn’t look forward to babies. I just am not quite sure how. I had to paint this picture in quite a bit of detail and stare at it for a long time in order to get the courage to leap. There’s no room left on the canvas. I have to start again from scratch.

(I won’t bore with you with the details of IF we do decide on kids, how exactly shall we procure them. I admit, the old-fashioned way as some appeal. But I also was always very interested in adoption, especially cross-cultural despite seeing the difficulties through various friends.)

If I have a moment tomorrow, I shall be back to cutesy posts with a story of how yankee women are not allowed to say “fixin’”. Otherwise, have a great weekend and relish the million possible train wrecks I shall share after our trip.