Solitude

Having been home, alone, on my summer break for over a month I'm starting to have some mixed feelings. During one of the many hours spent on the computer, I was able to find a quote that seems to sum everything up perfectly:

"There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall."

~ Sidonie Gabrielle

It seems to me, that I'm currently locked in the second type of solitude: the bitter tonic. I'm still grateful to be home, relaxing, instead of rounding up a bunch of pre-teens or teenagers for a lesson about eukaryotic cells, yet, there is something that is increasingly unsatisfying.

I've always been a productive person for as long as I can remember. As a child, my summers were spent divided between swimming lessons, softball, Kool-Aid stands, and organized neighborhood games of kick-the-can ... There was always something going on, and I was always at the head of it. As a teenager and on through my college years, I spent my summers not only working and saving for the future, but also catching up on the latest novel and spending time with my friends and eventually my newly acquired boyfriend. So, as an "adult" just out of college, landing a position in a research facility was wonderful for me ... I could multi-task to my heart's content and fill my days up as I pleased. Tissue culture, assays of all kinds, documenting results and preparing presentations to present them, all kept me adequately busy. Even during my short span as a teacher, there were always lessons to write or worksheets to create. There was always something that I could be doing, and, right now, that's just not the case.

Sure, sure ... I could clean or dust or vacuum or weed the garden, but you get to a point where the things you have to do become so monotonous that you could easily progress to the "poison" type of solitude. I am a homebody and I love a clean house as much as the next person, but if my days were spent constantly cleaning and tidying up, I'd want to be anywhere but at home ... And that prospect scares me a little bit. I don't want to become the type of person that has to be out and doing something in order to be happy. I don't want to forget about the little things, the quiet moments, the simple things in life.

It certainly doesn't help my situation that I'm still stuck in a limbo in terms of work next year. I've already quit my former teaching job at the private school, making a huge leap of faith and hoping to make the leap to high school, as well. Despite the fact that my choice was the farthest thing from my usual rational, logical approach, I still feel good about it. However, I've yet to land that new high school position, and it's starting to wear on me, and, more disconcertingly, those around me. My husband (the optimist, remember? Ha!) is very concerned about what is going to happen in the fall. I think he has visions of me loafing around on the couch, getting fat from ice-cream and boredom, and sponging away what's hidden inside our savings account until there is nothing left. Little does he know, that vision scares me as much as it does him, but for different reasons ... And not the getting fat stuff!

If I'm stuck at home throughout the fall, I will most definitely go crazy and start "beating my head against the wall." I've already run out of things to do right now, God only knows what I'll do then. At this point, all I can do is keep my head up and keep focused on the job market. By now, any last-minute contracts will have been either returned or declined, so there should be one last surge of available positions before school starts. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Too much of a good thing, they say. And, boy, they weren't kidding ...

I just hope that I can bring things back to "normal" so that I'll, once again, fully enjoy the peace and quiet that solitude can bring.