Comment: Magazine Subscriptions and Dating Careers

Okay, my kids have yet another school fundraiser. Given that we pay through the nose for our children's education there already, we don't have a big problem being a seriously slacker family in the support-the-school-events realm.

Just the other night, there was a big do right down the street from us (No driving! Free booze! Well, it probably wasn't free, nothing is at these things) but we did not attend. And I did not feel guilty.

There is only so much shmoozing a person can do when they're running with a crowd they don't relate to. I'm not saying these other parents aren't nice; I'm sure some are, and some aren't. But it's a rarified kind of crowd, one I feel uncomfortable in; thus, avoidance is by far the best policy. I like a handful of people involved with the school. But I'm not a schooly-rah-rah mom.

So when my kids come home with fundraising things, I mostly ignore them. But then they found my Achilles heel: magazines. Cheap, plentiful, magazines. Magazines for the whole family. We love to read and I love to shop. Bingo. Plus the kids get rewards of some sort for selling one subscription. Now, I'm not going to subject my friends and neighbors to a door-to-door selling campaign. I wouldn't put my kids (or myself) through that. It was bad enough in Quebec in the 80s selling Florida grapefruit and oranges to belligerent or indifferent French Canadians door to door in the dead of winter.

But I did order a few magazines, giving a selling credit to each child, so that they can win their Pavlovian seller bonus prize of a bouncy ball or whatever the hell it is.

It just gets me thinking: we're all so extrinsically driven. We all want to be rewarded for our actions. And I'm the guiltiest one around these days. I shop too much because I'm bored and unfulfilled and I want to feel something. Desperate Housewives, indeed.

But I am working on moving away from this form of reward system. I will soon enough have my state teaching credential; but wherefore art the jobs? I think I have to go back to school (again) and I'm torn between doing what I think will get me a job and what I love. In fact, the two may actually overlap in some areas. I'm pretty sure they can, but I'm going to have to get creative.

Yes, I already have a couple of little teeny tiny jobs; this is great. But it's not enough. I want to be the type of person who can lead an itinerant-style career, which has in truth mostly been a matter of necessity due to frequent moves. But what I REALLY want is to settle down with something. Not settle. Settle down. I want to get married to a career, and stop dating. I want a ring, dammit! There's that materialism again. Argh.

I do want to at least get engaged to a career; I guess that's what going back to school is.

Well. That was quite the journey from magazines to career angst. But this is how the brain works. Mine, anyway.

I wasn't going to post this last night because I thought it was too self-indulgent, but then my dear and smart friend told me, "Hey, it's your blog, people don't have to scroll down if they don't want to" and so, my faithful readers, voila. Thanks, Christy!