I go to class alone this AM as poor Lawren is stuck in dead-line mode and cannot escape her desk. Must say I really love these classes. The teacher, whose name I could not summon in my post from January, is Daniela Maturi and she rocks. Great politics, firm skills, and a pleasant manner. Feels so nice sitting here, listening and doodling, checking out all the kids. The sense of accomplishment returning home afterwards is palpable. You feel like you did the right thing with your time.

Could it be that I miss school? It certainly is a helluva lot easier than life. School was great for framing one’s days, for setting rhythms and limits. At this point in my life and career, I wake on any given day to a blank slate, must carve out my agenda for myself by myself, must establish some arc of inspiration to fulfill the brief I’ve been given without supervision. There are gigs and deadlines to be sure but I set my own hours as does Lawren. We both struggle with this at times.

There was something so warmly encircling about that winter bus ride to Vatex, the screen printing factory in Richmond where I worked for almost two years. I’d leave the cold morning air for the workshop bustle, the time clock and coffee, the radio babble. You were there, you were signed in and stuck, but you knew it was possible to focus on your tasks and grind through the hours. At day’s end you’d have more paid hours in the books and it wouldn’t matter what you actually did. You’d be tired and hungry and back at the house and the next morning the whole process would repeat itself.

Before I lose myself in joe-job nostalgia, I should say that I wouldn’t change out our current situation for anything. We’re so lucky to be able to focus on our own work. We work together every day and manage to get along pretty well, plus we can keep Mary company. It’s a good setup.