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Personal blog of christian
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What Do You Want To Do Today?So finally it's Saturday, the one day of the week I rarely feel guilty. Well, okay, technically I don't often feel guilty on Sunday, either. Except occasionally when I skip church and I'm not sick at all but only exhausted or stressed.Sunday, you'll understand if you've ever been Catholic, is a Holy Day of Obligation, with a strong emphasis on obligation. I was raised to believe that you put in your time at Mass unless you were certifiably, irretrievably dead. And sometimes, even then. But I digress. I don't feel guilty on the weekends--and especially on Saturday--because if I were a member of the traditional workforce, I'd probably get Saturdays off. If my mother calls me today and asks what I'm doing, she won't expect the answer to be "working," so I won't need to couch my response in terms that make her think I'm actually accomplishing something worthy of a paycheck. If she calls from 9-5 on Monday through Friday, she's trained herself to say, "Are you writing?" to which I always answer, "Oh, yes, it's coming along nicely now..." She never asks what I mean by "nicely," or what the definition of "it" is. She doesn't want to know that much, which is fine with me. I've pretty much decided that unless forced to by some terrible financial misfortune that I can't foresee at the moment, I'll never work in someone else's office again. I make a terrible employee, one who requires reams of scrap paper and cases of post-it notes just to keep up with the pieces of poetry, potential book titles, and tidbits of character analysis that pop into my head at any given moment. Even though I've made my choice and know it's the right one for me, the guilt rages. I've become friends with a woman recently whose two daughters are both in college. Her mother has Alzheimer's and is in a nursing home, where Mary visits her several times per week. Invariably, the employees at the facility question Mary on what she does with all her time, since she holds no outside-the-home job. "I'm here, am I not?" she responds, which usually silences them. I suspect if she ever gets in the mood, she'll just tell them she does nothing, and leave it at that. She doesn't feel compelled to defend her choices, only to live with them. Unlike me, Mary feels no guilt about choosing to be a life-long homemaker. She doesn't feel the need to be making an income (however small) in order to prove something about her worth, her right to exist. If this were a movie called When Katy Met Mary, my next line would have to be, "I'll have what she's having." Anything you've been made to feel guilty about, when it's nobody's business but yours?
Posted by Katy on 05/21/05 at 08:42 AM
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