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  • I love to work and I am awful, unlawful about it. Parenting is the closest I've come to figuring myself out, figuring out my own willfulness, my difficulty accepting critique, management. I prefer in many ways to work and to not be paid with money. I always need more time. I have trouble pleasing the right people but it is always on my mind that I am not pleasing them enough to stand out. In a perfect world I might be a housewife without a Ph.D. I might be less-defensive. I might be able to sew dresses and smocks. So far I fall through space and work and I love to teach writing, to discuss stories. I work a lot and do the best I can with dishes, with seeds, with driving my stepchildren around Connecticut, picking toys up off the floor and doing laundry. I think of work as gritty, numbing, hard, unfair and also meditative, simple, grounding. I imagine I might be liberated if I did a job really really well but probably not.
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