I feel like my life is posting big orange signs. I have to slow my speed so I don't hit any of the workers, which represent different ideas, various imagined futures I have lined up for myself. I have tossed these futures into the air and am waiting, hard-hat and all, for them to fall into the proper place.
Should I work at a winery, have a baby, start a franchise, work at a college, pursue an MFA, work for a non-profit, clean our house, or sit at home hoping to become a published author? For now, like highway 80, construction is stalled until June 13th, when I shall become a free vessel, unhitched from my current job as a teacher, and ready for a daring adventure. Watch out for the cones.
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