The Scarlett Letter

The sweet solitude after the holidays.  Little reminders of it scattered around, my sons toy tank toppled on the floor; LED candles flicker in the window.  I am enjoying this slice of silence, the little man is sound asleep so I type away to distract myself. 

If you wake up every night at 3 am thinking aloud about work, does that means you need a vacation?  I find myself pacing the floor by 4 am unable to clear my mind of various work situations that need correcting.  

If I could do as I please, what would I do? It’s been so long since the future was a blank slate, I am not even sure what I want.  When you have a game plan, and a plan B, and neither worked out, then what?  The question I thought I had answered, “what will you be when you grow up?”-Now must be answered again.  But like a large supermarket with infinite choices of cereal and sphagetti sauces, sometimes too many choices are not good either.  It’s overwhelming and suffocating, not the freedom some would imagine.  And bound by bills and the responsibilities of parenthood, some choices are out of the question for now.  

I re-read The Scarlett Letter the other night during some stolen time- I stayed up well past midnight reading and was miserably tired the next day.   What a fantastic book, I loved it when I first read it in high school.  To read it now with a clearer (ha-ha) understanding of relationships, the book was that much more meaningful.  How did the author know a woman’s heart so well?  Why did Hester allow her husband to torment the Reverand for so long?   Things are not so different now for women out in the world carrying a child but not a ring…the stares you sometimes get, you may as well wear the Letter on your chest. 

There’s some rambling for you.  Sorry to clear my mind here and clutter yours.  

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