The good news: the symptoms of internal bleeding have disappeared. I am grateful.
Yesterday morning, I accepted the job on the new TV series. I will be alternating with a good friend. I will work for two weeks and then be home for about a week and a half. I am already mourning the loss of my time as a full-time Mom and the life that I saw for Eliza and myself in that apartment away from New York. I am stuck in New York with C for now. If the show gets cancelled, I'll move out then. If the show gets picked up for another season, I'll move out and hire an au pair. Since I often have to leave for work in the wee hours of the morning, there's no way I can work in my field without a live-in. I'm only committed to work on the show for five months (even less if the network pulls the plug right away) so I can't seek an apartment or an au pair just yet. It sucks, frankly. The very thing I need to make the break is keeping me here longer.
The apartment that I loved that I had to say good-bye had sliding glass doors in the dining room that overlooked a grassy field. I see Eliza and myself sitting there for dinner and I think, what a nice life that would be. I know the reality might be very different but this is the life I want. Dinner with my daughter every night. A life without him.
Oh, how I dream of the ability to earn a living doing something else entirely, something that won't demand the kind of time and energy that this TV world requires.
I took a magazine writing class this winter and hit it off with the teacher. I thought she could be something of a mentor and have emailed her since the class ended in March. On June 1st, I mentioned an essay I was writing about how parents in the United States are far more over protective than parents in Israel.
She sent me a blanket email that she'd sent to several people searching for sources for a story she was writing. Her story is apparently about today's hyper-parenting culture and how we are overwatching our kids.
Coincidence? I don't f-ing think so? Funny? Not to me, not at first. Now I find it amusing and realize how I've got to crank this essay and send it out. It's apparently such a good topic, established writers feel compelled to steal it from me.
Maybe I've got what it takes to make it as a writer after all.