Poking My Head Out From Under the Covers

    I’ve had a lot of time— over a week— to think about what I’m going to do next year, once the twins start preschool.   Except for Alex and I, the whole family has been barfing, fevering, coughing or pooping, so having spent the bulk of my days chasing everyone around with Purell and Lysol wipes, I came to the realization that I really miss my job.  BUT, (and there always is a but, is there not?) there appears to be more occupational therapists in this Ontario town than there are rednecks at a  pig roast, so the chances of me getting a work visa are pretty darn slim. I thought about writing, but I’m not sure if I have the discipline to write every. damn. day.   So what else is there? If I can’t work for cash (although Canada DOES provide special visas for foreigners who are willing to jump naked on poles for pay), what can I do with myself?  My house will be sparkling in a week, and the gym only eats up a few hours a week.  I don’t want my kids to see me as I saw my mom, forever putting herself on hold, sacrificing and slaving for us at her expense. I want my kids to respect me as a person, not just as their mom.

It’s more than a little frustrating that I’m in this predicament after  spending all that time in grad school, busting my ass and racking up six figures in student loans, but I digress… 

On another note, I know Amy Winehouse has issues, but girlfriend can sing her ass off, and I love love LOVED watching her get her Grammy!