May 14: White Wednesday, Blowing Away, A Way to Live,

...Despite this and other setbacks, [White] kept scribbling and typing.  Distilling his experience into words on a page was the only way he could find to prevent his daily life from blowing away like clouds.

That's a pretty common feeling with most writers, I think.  The impulse to write is inextricably connected to the impulse to preserve memory and experience.  Even as a young man, E. B. White knew this.  That's why he took up pen and paper and typewriter at such a young age.


In the last couple years, things have changed for me quite a bit.  Hell, in the last couple weeks things have changed for me quite a bit.  I've had no control over these changes.  Winds have simply blown into my daily life and swept some clouds away, as Michael Sims says in the passage above.

Tomorrow, I begin a new chapter in my professional life.  A new job.  I will be learning new procedures, new tasks, new computer programs, new people.  That's a lot of "new" for a person who likes the "old."  Old job, old procedures, old tasks, old computer programs, old coworkers.  I would be lying if I didn't admit that I'm more than a little apprehensive about tomorrow.  In fact, the thought of walking into that office in the morning makes me a little nauseous.

I have to remind myself that it's just a job.  A way to pay the bills, keep a roof overhead, food in our bellies, and a health insurance card in my wallet.  That's all.  I can't invest myself in what I'm going to be doing.  I did that with my last medical office job, and, in the end, it really didn't make a difference.  I will do what I need to do to keep this new position.  Perform to the best of my abilities.  Then, I will come home and focus on what's really important--my family.  And I won't think about that new job again until I punch the time clock the following morning.

Working is a way to live.  Living isn't a way to work.

That's Saint Marty's mantra for tomorrow.

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind