Trapped?
I’m seriously reconsidering my move to Chicago. It is so fucking cold. And the cold has got me moody and stir-crazy. -15 degrees? Seriously? Like 0 degrees wasn’t cold enough. Old man winter is so stinking insulting. And I can really think about absconding, because well, um...I have the freedom to do pretty much anything. I have a job, actually, a relatively good job, but I am not my job. I find it difficult to say that I am a teacher...rather I say, I teach. I could very well sign up to do cartwheels around the world next year. That’s just how I think. And I am not tied to motherhood, which is simultaneously liberating and slightly problematic. Many women organize their identities around motherhood--it is convenient way to create meaning and purpose in a world that can otherwise seem random and incidental. You know the story--the unruly woman kissing girls and taking shots in the bar, suddenly births a baby, and subsequently, stability and domestication. But can