I Do Not Entertain Myself Well

It’s been two years since I moved to North Carolina from upstate New York. I can’t get over the weather here; I’m not used to spring actually coming in March, wearing shorts and mowing the lawn in early April, such blue skies, and the warmth of the sun. Every “morning” (I’m a night owl, so my morning isn’t the same as most other people’s) I take my breakfast out on the back deck and just love the weather. Even when I have to stand in the gazebo attached to the deck to stay dry, I still love that I’m not standing in hip-deep snow or suffering with a “breeze” that wants to rip the skin off my face. The climate here makes me happy.

But it’s also been two years since I’ve had a job. I taught English Composition and Introduction to Literature for most of my 34 years of teaching, and I miss it terribly, although I’m not sure I’d want to go back. I suppose there’s a chance some college near by might need a part-time instructor come fall, and while the idea of a paycheck is very attractive, because it comes with a schedule, it doesn’t sound so great. In two years, I’ve gotten used to not having to be somewhere at a given time, except for the occasional doctor’s appointments. I enjoy sleeping until I wake up all by myself, no alarm clock needed. I like taking my time waking up, turning on my phone, checking Facebook before I take myself to the shower and get dressed. Then I go out with the dogs, go for a walk around the yard, come back in to have my tea and the rest of my breakfast, reading a good book while I eat. It’s after that that things get ugly.