What IS Work?

Dear Reader,

The "Tree PIt" project is done! Thank heaven! I think if I'd had to go out there again and dig in those pits or mix, haul and dump any more mulch, I would have collapsed. As it was, each time I went out there to work, along Broadway between 102nd and 103rd Streets, it was hot, humid, smelly (car exhaust, dog pee, etc.), dirty, and sometimes aggravating. It was also satisfying, at least when folks didn't think I was doing "community service," or was hired to do the work. While I was preparing and spreading the mulch, I had the cooperation of my building, in that I had tools and space to work in. The mixing (I did a 2-color mulch, red and black), hauling and spreading was tough work, though. I didn't realize when I took this on how hard the work would actually be.

But what is work? The "work" I do to earn a living is, in and of itself, easy. Bookkeeping and accounting. It's numbers, math, organization, memory, repetition. I'm very good at it. The part I'm not as good at is dealing with clients who have no idea what it is I do, or worse, think that they understand my work. Then, I have to explain to them that they are idiots, without actually saying that. Bookkeeping is one of those tasks that everyone thinks they can do, but, as I have been told by clients, don't have the time to waste on. So, they have me. And, as I am "only a bookkeeper," I am not their equal, intellectually or in any other way, so they frequently believe.

As you may imagine, I don't get much satisfaction from this. So, I take on other tasks; I guess they would be called hobbies or, in the case of my gardening, exercise. I essentially approach these in the same way I do my work. I determine the work to be done, I formulate a plan to accomplish the work, and I do the job and get it done. Sadly, many of these "non-work" jobs are more satisfying and fulfilling than my income-producing work.

Whatever the situation, I work hard. I try to get my daily goals accomplished, even when I'm out in the Park. I love talking with folks while I'm out there, but I worry that I'm losing time "on the job." I had the same thing happen while I was out working on the tree pits. I don't want to be rude to people who stop and chat, however, so I have taken the time from my work, and made a few new friends.

So, what is work? And why can't work be fun, or at least fulfilling, and produce a sense of satisfaction at the end of the day? The tree pits were really hard work, but the sense of accomplishment and yes, satisfaction I had when I walked along them afterwards made it worthwhile. I occasionally have these same good feelings when I develop a really good spreadsheet, or reorganize a company so that the management can actually see how they are doing. But those upsides in my "real" work are few and far between.

I'm also bummed about my chorus right now, so I haven't even addressed that work here. I hope that over the rest of the summer I can focus on my Park work, which is wonderfully satisfying, and carry some of that back into my other works.

Bottom line, I think, work is work, but some work is fun. And sometimes fun can actually be work. Should one have to work to have fun? At age 51, I should have the answers to these questions, but the sad fact is, I still haven't even figured out what I want to be. Sheesh!

More to Come,
Catbird

Looking in the Rearview Mirror

Dear Reader,

I've been back in NYC for 8 days, and it feels like a month. So many things have happened; routine and not so.

I began the "Broadway Tree pit" project last Monday, right after work. It's remarkable how tiring simple digging, hoeing and weeding/detrashing can be. I started a course of yoga the next day, and did more "pit" work. Wednesday was routine, with a major downpour dumped in; I canceled 2 doctor appointments on Tuesday and Wednesday because I just felt overwhelmed.

Thursday was a long catchup session at a client; new workspace (again), new office manager (again), new systems (again). I love this client, though, so the anxiety is worth it.

Friday, prepared draft budget for my chorus for next season, working with almost no definitive information. What fun! What surprises me is that my hobbies almost invariably end up being "jobs," albeit unpaid ones.

I started taking care of a friend's very old cat on Sunday. This will be nearly a three-week stint. Also over the weekend, I got back into the Park. It was none the worse for wear, thankfully! In fact, I was amazed at how untouched things were. I was so grateful for that, but I was so relieved to be back. It was like "old-home" weekend, too; almost all of my dog/people friends came by, and I had many nice chats and catch-up sessions. My friend Linda and her dog Smokey (see this entry: http://catbirdeye.blogspot.com/2007/05/wonderful-day-in-neighborhood.html) came by for an extended visit and playing with his Kong. What surprised me was that when they came into the Park, he trotted right up to me, Kong in mouth, then waited for me to start playing. He is a great dog! Linda and I caught up, which was nice.

I have never been good at having a lot of "friends." I have had one "best" friend, and many acquaintances, but never several close friends. My "best" friends have been few and far between, and have always left one way or the other. My last best friend died a few years ago of Parkinson's disease. Nowadays, whenever anyone mentions sensations of what might sound like symptoms of Parkinson's, I get antsy and tell them they should get checked. It seemed to sneak up on my friend, and I would hate for that to happen to anyone else I know.

I spent the last week updating folks (at their request) on my "vacation" in WV. I mentioned first and foremost that I spent time in PA with my sister and her husband, and that I rode a jet ski! Honestly, I have been surprised at the reaction! People think this is a big adventure; I'm some sort of daredevil or something. I thought I was doing something pretty ordinary; I figured if I flipped the thing, I'd just end up swimming. Anyway, I've described the rest of my time away as uneventful, which it was, and untroubling, which it was not.

When I leave there, I take the burden of the place with me, and it stays with me for quite a while. I have worked hard to maintain connections and relationships with my sisters, and of course, Daddy. This has been a real challenge sometimes because the life I have here is so different and disconnected from them.

I know Daddy is happy when I come down, no matter how dysfunctional I seem to be. And, to him, it would not matter if I did anything to "help out," or if I just sat and watched TV all day; I know he is happy to just have me there. My sisters are another issue. If I don't "do something" while I'm there, I'm labeled "lazy, drunk, useless." It doesn't matter that I'm on vacation when I'm there. As far as they are concerned, I don't really "work" anyway. Yes, I don't wear a smock or a uniform; I don't clock in; I don't have someone else setting my schedule. So, I don't really work.

Anyway, as I drive away from there, and get back into the NY pace and routine, such as it is, I wonder when and if I will see them again, especially Daddy. I'm torn, because he has never abandoned me, and I don't want to feel as if I am abandoning him when he may need me. It's hard to know, because he will never say. What to do?

I want a motorcycle!

Catbird

Where is Home?

Dear Reader,

Entry started July 2, continued July 3:

I'm heading to West Virginia, via my sister and her husband's home in western Pennsylvania.These trips are always difficult for me. When people ask me where I'm going, my response is that I'm going "home," to visit my family. Now, I am not from either West Virginia OR Pennsylvania. I was born in Virginia, and while I was a kid, we lived in several different states and countries, none of which was West Virginia or PA. But, my parents were from WV, and my dad decided to move back there several years ago. When he and my mom relocated there, it became "home." As it happens, it is 8/10's of a mile from the house my dad was born in, so for him, it is literally, home.

But, whenever I travel down there, I go through the litany of questions: what is "home?" Is home where I live, or is it the place where my family lives? Is home the life I've built here in New York, my apartment, my neighborhood, my gardens, or is "home" their place, their life?

As I drive to my destination (I drive twice or so a year; always to visit "home") I think about living that lifestyle; the "driving" lifestyle. I am a good driver; I love driving, in fact. I've driven cars, SUV's and trucks; I like them all. I love driving, and driving fast on the highway. If I lived in the 'urbs, either the sub- or ex-urbs, I would be comfortable without mass transit. But, as a New Yorker, I believe totally in the need and efficiency of mass transit. I also believe that regular work commutation should be done in some more useful fashion than 1 person, 1 auto, if it's done at all. I think most of it is a huge waste of time and energy, both oil-based and human.

But then I get involved in the house, yard, big grocery store, WalMart aspects of this lifestyle. Oh, it seems so easy, and clean and nice and civilized. Not like trying to shop in the grocery store in my neighborhood, which is really nice, but the aisles are so narrow and crowded; things are so expensive; the ease of getting home is only because I live so close by.

I try not to determine which is "better," the urban or the sub/exurban lifestyle. Both have their up and downsides, definitely. But which do I prefer? The urban, in the long run.

Why? Because it's what I'm used to, although I am very familiar and comfortable with the suburban/country life. But also, I simply feel more at ease with the urban life; I am happy with my apartment, which equals one room in my sisters' homes. All I need is a room, with a bathroom and a separate kitchen, and I have that in my Manhattan studio apartment. I don't need a 10-room home with a livingroom/diningroom, live-in kitchen, and several bedrooms. I need enough space for my cats and me. I have managed to find a "yard:" the area I work in, in Riverside Park. What better yard?

But, the sub/exurban life still does have many attractions. The sheer space is one; I could have 10 or more additional rooms to put my stuff into; so I could pay a mortgage, but I wouldn't have to pay for a storage space. I could do whatever I wanted with my own yard and property, though I would not have folks walking their dogs coming through to enjoy the space, or my work.

Continued 7/11/07:

I'm going to go ahead and post this column. I have many other thoughts and stories from my recent trip "home," many of which have been generated on my return to NYC, and the contrast between these two lifestyles. When I leave down there to come back Home to NYC, I feel in some ways I am abandoning my family, although the truth is, there is nothing I could do to help them if I stayed there with them. So, all I can do is come home to NYC, live my life and make the best of it. I still do have that guilt, though.

More to come,
Catbird