A journalist observes life in the far north.
My draft post file is starting to look like my Gmail inbox. I’m feeling unsettled lately, and I don’t know what I want to write about. Do I write about taking Jade swimming this week or about her upcoming first birthday? Maybe I could write about her fits and starts as she tests her walking legs. Or how she can arch her eyebrow, a talent she inherited from my mother, who died four years ago.
Shall I write a post about all of the changes at my job and how I am feeling unsure about where I fit in? How about a post about winter? It’s suddenly here, and by golly my three hens are continuing to lay eggs. And there’s always the presidential election. The God-loving, abortion-hating, former beauty queen, machine-gun-shooting governor of my state is on the Republican ticket.
I can always write about Canadian Thanksgiving. We are celebrating it in our house this year. It seems like a good excuse for a feast. If Americans can embrace Cinco de Mayo, than why not a holiday from our northern neighbor?
I have a lot of ideas, but I get down a few sentences and hit a dead end. I think it has to do with this feeling lately that whatever I am doing is not what I should be doing. I should be doing something else. Like now. I feel like I should be writing a friend a reassuring e-mail or washing dishes or calling my dad.
Maybe I am swept up in a national mood. The economy seems on the brink of another Great Depression, the country is at war and a new president will be elected in a few weeks. I am a mother now, and I have never been more invested in a presidential election.
I hope I can shake this mood, whatever the cause. I guess I’ll go do something else whilst probably pondering whether I should be improving this post.