Wednesday again and June is almost over. I switch to my later shift in July, which will be good from the perspective that I won't have to be at work until 9:30am, but sucky because I work until 6pm instead of 4. If I could just find a job where I don't start until 10 and I get done at four...well, we'd really have something!

Yesterday I had training in St. Paul all day, which meant that I had three hours on the road. That's never a good thing for me because it means that I have time to myself to think, which pretty much invariably means an existential crisis. the internal dialogue goes like this:
WHY am I not following my bliss? I have a novel...no, a memoir to write. I have pottery to make. I should be a landscape designer. I want to go back to school and get my MFA and lead a life of a Bohemian artist! And, while I'm at it, I think I'll grow my own fruit!

Now repeat that in varying permutations for three hours. By the time I got home I was exhausted and depressed. Marv and I went to dinner at Mill City Restaurant (FKA Bostons) and I was explaining to him the merit of living only three minutes from work (no time to think), and he apparently doesn't have those same thoughts when left to his own devises. Well NO, I said, why would you? You're living the dream. You have ME! And he gets to carve and read and do the crossword at his leisure. Sheesh. Granted, he worked as a teacher for decades FIRST, but why split hairs?

I also didn't say he has never had kids or anyone else to answer to or support. He's never had to NOT do what he wanted with his free time because he HAD to do something else. If he didn't want to do something, he just didn't. No one to explain to. Now, I didn't say that because he has, at times, expressed some regret about never marrying or whatever, and I don't want to make him feel bad, but COME ON.

I mean, the thing is that I've made my choices and I don't regret having kids and the life that it meant. But I'm not sure it's possible to be a single mom and just do what you want with your life. It should be, but I don't think it is.

Now my kids are (sort of) full grown and on their own, and I suppose I could re-arrange my life to pursue a creative life. In fact, if I had more discipline, I'm actually pretty sure I could. But I don't, so I know I have no one to blame but myself. I need someone to tell me what steps to take. What do I do first? And who am I accountable to? Myself? Well, that's not going to fly. I can't hold myself accountable for what I consider to be something done strictly for myself. I need someone else to MAKE me do something I want to do. And even I can see how messed up that is.

I want to write. And I amuse myself with my writing. But I need a deadline and a reason to do it beyond just wanting to. Like submissions. But I hate rejection. Which is a problem. So basically, I need someone to tell me what to write about, let me write whatever I want about it, tell me when I need to submit it, and then lavish me with praise. Again, I see where the problems are with this. As my co-worker would say, it's cray cray. But that's how I roll.

So here's what I want right now. I want a little column in the paper (the local one is fine), that is essentially just an entertaining column about...well, I don't know. About what? Life? And honestly, I think If I submitted some articles they'd probably let me. I mean, this paper could seriously use something entertaining, because it's boring as Hell and the people who have daily columns are dull as dirt. And not very good writers, to boot.

So I need a theme. or at least a topic list. Or something. HELP!

A week ago last Monday, I submitted my petition for a name change. I'm finally going back to my maiden name. $322.00 to basically buy back something that was mine a LOT longer than it was not. But I figure it's an investment in myself. And, as my friend put it, I finally get to throw off the albatross of my married name. So it'll be worth it. I sometimes sit and try to think of myself as that person. And I picture a thirteen year old girl. I don't know why. But I do. But I also feel a freedom and a kind of giddiness that is clearly psychosomatic. But after the divorce, one of my first and deepest wishes was to be rid of my ex's name. But I kept it for a few reasons - the truest one being that it was easier not to deal with it. Others included the expense and the kids. But Grey moved out and Gabe's been moved out for a while, and there just didn't seem to be a good reason not to fill out some paperwork and move on with my life.

I went to the courthouse and let the woman behind the plexiglass know what I intended, and as she started to wearily point me to the direction of where I might find the forms, I apparently delighted her by telling her that I already had filled out the appropriate forms and was prepared to pay the (exorbitant) fee. The fact that she was so clearly pleased says more about the dreariness of her job, I think, that my preparedness.

So that was a week and a half ago, and since she told me that I'd be getting a court date in a few days, I actually thought that meant that I would be getting a court date in a few days. I've been checking my mail box and (GAK!) I listened to my voicemails on the off chance that they decided to call me instead of sending me a letter. So far no dice. Honestly, the fact that I have to go to court and essentially plead for the powers that be to give me back what is actually MINE kind of rankles, but I get that this is how the game is played, and I can make some rationalizations, so I'm playing along. But what I want is to show up at court with Marv and Mel and have them stamp the papers and decree that I am ME again! For some reason, most of the people I tell this to have shared with me what a pain in the ass it will be. New Driver's license, update the bank, the social security administration, etc. Yeah, well, people get married and no one tells them that it's gonna be a really hassle to change their name.

Once again today, my empty mailbox disappointed me and I think if I don't hear by Friday there will be a phone call to the City. This is simply not that big of a city that there should be a line for administrative crap.