Working Working

Because writing without pictures is a little sad, I've included this one from my Israel trip, even though it has nothing to do with this post.  Actually, I have nothing specific to post, I only feel I ought to put something up, to keep in practice.  

Since the mother left, I've been throwing myself totally into work; instead of feeling tired though, I've been rather  happy about it.  My house is messier as a result, and my hobbies are neglected, but I feel productive and interested in science again.  Once in a while, I think I could be happy as a housewife - keeping house and garden, cooking, knitting and being domestic - but in my hearts of hearts, I know all of it would pall and instead of giving me pleasure, those very things I love doing now would become a burden and lose sparkle.  I'd be depressed, with nothing to strive for.  Because ultimately, none of it is enough to keep my brain busy and engaged, or provide the social interactions and relationships I need.  And then there's the money.  Perhaps because of my own personal history, it has always been extremely important for me to make my own money and be able to support myself.  Being able to do so fosters feelings of independence and confidence.  I'm lucky of course that I found a career I love; it would be different if my work was just work.  But even given the choice between a regular old job and endless leisure time, I think I'd still choose to work.