Mom and the Apocalypse

Sometimes my mom is really funny. Like today she calls me to tell me I have some "unclaimed property" being held by the state of Tennessee. Images race through my mind of 20 acres of beautiful farm land I forgot about or maybe, a treasure chest full of gold. It's actually more like a check for 23 dollars from this one stock my Mimi bought me when I was little. That's great. I'll take it. We're talking about it and Mom says that sometimes it's a person's last paycheck before they moved away or a long-lost relative a person never knew she had who left them a zillion dollars. "Wish I had one", says mom and I burst our laughing. She and I never developed that friend thing that, apparently, lots of girls develop with their mothers after they move out of the house and no longer have to confront mom with their burgeoning sexuality. We still essentially misunderstand each other all the time, so those rare moments of shared laughter are a treat. Sometimes I think about the future of the US economy and the impending petroleum crisis, an event in which I, for whatever reason, have a faith bordering on religious. I think about my mom and dad and what on earth they will do in a dog-eat-dog post-apocalyptic end-times economy. Shit, I barely know what I will do.

Today I was looking through the classifieds for a new job. Nathanael and I compromised yesterday and decided that, in exchange for him agreeing to join the peace corps with me for two years after we sell the house, I will work and try to make some actual money for the next two years while we do have the house and the bills and all that (oh yeah, and for the rest of our lives after we get out of the peace corps). I will have to put my entirely cash-less lifestyle on hold till we actually don't need cash anymore. Fair enough.

There is something communal in the experience of job-hunting I think. Where once all men knew what it was like to hunt a deer or a wild boar; now it is the stealthy decent job that tests our wits and reflexes. Where once every woman required the discernment to tell an edible root from a poisonous one, now we must be armed with the ability to recognized the distinction between "must have organizational skills and follow-through" and "must be good with hands and ambitious". The pages full of tiny boxes with tinier type seem so promising, so full of possibilities until I actually scrunch up my nose and read them.

I have a couple of good prospects, but the time of tense anticipation is upon me. I am mourning what will prove to be the loss of my blessed state of semi-employment. Time to write, clean the house, work on a hobby. I am sort of terrified by the choice I've just made. "Putting it on hold" is the death knell of many a dream of many an alternative lifestyle. What will happen? Will I forget what I wanted? Will I be bogged down till I'm 50-something and can't relate to my daughter and just wish to god I had a relative I never knew I had who I just found out died and left me a zillion dollars? Maybe my faith in a future economic chaos is the latest excuse to rebel against what must necessarily be a work-a-day life full of glum responsibilities and mediocre health. If that's the case so be it. I'll take any excuse I can find to maintain some small shreds of idealism as I get older.

Our reasoning is certainly different, but now that I think about it, Mom deserves a little admiration on the subject of choosing one's life's work. At 50-something, she's eschewed a career that made her pretty good money as an accountant and now works in a daycare with little children because that's what she loves. She doesn't make much money, a serious issue as she approaches retirement age, but she doesn't care. I see the charm in what she does. I visited the daycare once and was shocked by the bizarre, but pleasant feeling of being surrounded by short, curious, messy, adorable, 2-year-old people. Now that I think about it a little bit more, this experience has probably thoroughly prepared her for all manner of future chaos. Maybe I do have a relative I didn't know existed. Seriously though, it would be nice if she felt like giving me a zillion dollars.