Building Up My Excuse Wall Nice And High

Sorry my latest Bright Maidens post is late... again. I wasn't out of the country this time. I wasn't recovering from jet lag either. I did drive my brother to the doctor and then to his interview with the Navy, but that shouldn't have prevented me from posting. My laptop refusing to turn on, however, did.

Okay Julie, you're thinking. Not a big deal. Just a post. You couldn't have prevented your computer from deciding to go black and then have little Windows icon to swirl around for hours.

But, I beg to differ. I missed a deadline.

In professional journalism, my past life, that doesn't happen. You miss a deadline and... well, bad news bears, yo. You're messin' with the lay-out folks now. I used to lose a lot of sleep under the pressure of a deadline. It was wonderful and exhilarating. I took pride in it. I liked how hard I could work under pressure, and the beautiful prose tapped out of my fingertips.

As some older readers know, I used to be a reporter. I covered the statehouse and had a jolly good time. Then, for many reasons, I quit, moved home and began writing and researching for the family business. I'm still Arts and Letters Editor of a quarterly, but I've mostly hopped off my journalism perch, and am enjoying a more distant view of a business I once thought of as my life.

As Girl Scouts taught me, make new friends, but keep the old

It is amazing what distance will do for perspective. I talked to a good friend last week, and he asked me about what I am up to. The conversation almost made me laugh from glee, that pithy C.S. Lewis line about telling God your plans coming to mind, and I told my friend how much I am enjoying life. We have been friends since college: he knew me when I was dead-set on D.C., saw me lean towards marketing, helped edit my first academic journal piece, and has been a wonderful friend to me. My update was much longer than his, for better or worse. He's still on the same track: rocking med school.

On one hand, I envy those in medical or law school, those working in their field of choice, those who shaken off the dust of their hometown and have arrived on the scene in the big city. There's a plan and a path, and the fruit of one's hard work can usually be seen on a larger scale. They're makin' their mark, and they won't stop until they get there.

But where are they going, exactly?

I find there's something alluring about striking out on my own path, beating my own drum, figuring "it" out. Belle sings in Disney's Beauty and the Beast about the provincial life, saying she wants more and declaring that there must be more!

I sympathize with Belle, but only to an extent. I work for my family business. I like it, but sometimes I forget that one must work within one's postage stamp of native soil to really excel. It takes experiences like talking to good friends to remind me of what I have, and how blessed I am to be at home.

Every choice is a give and take, and I'm freely and no longer choosing the promise of a career over my relationships with people. (Not that other people in their respective fields necessarily are-- but I was, which is my point.)

Leaping down the hill in Georgia

Living at home again has taught me how to handle the unexpected. I have to be diligent at work, or else I won't be able to get my work done on time when my parents need me to take my brother-with-mono to the doctor again.

In two weeks, I have a couple book reviews due. I need to plan ahead to make deadline, which includes Saturday Fun (a.k.a. all house clean-up) and washing dinner dishes. I'm helping someone do research for a book: there's a schedule I have to keep to. I might go overseas again; I play tennis on Tuesdays, see friends and B. through the week, and go on walk-runs with my dog. I'm doing my own research, and writing letters, and writing more articles, including my Bright Maidens posts.

I realized today: I really should plan to publish earlier than the day of. Life happens, but that doesn't mean writing shouldn't.

Thus, I am sorry, sort of.

Perhaps I shouldn't be. Maybe you didn't even notice, dear readers, but nonetheless, please accept my apology for tardiness and bear witness to my persistence in attempting to publish things on time. I will return to my old habits, mostly.

As Tolkien wrote in The Fellowship of the Ring (which I am listening to during my daily hour commute, to lessen the time brunt), "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

I'm not sorry I'm spending my time with people, but I am for not publishing on time, which is, in a way, an opportunity to spend time and share my thoughts with y'all, as you share back with me.

Here's something to read in the meantime: Knocking at the Door: Musings on history, philosophy, theology, literature, and culture. It's a blog by my good friend Mitch, a grad student at TCU studying the Civil War. He also features the above Tolkien quote and offers lovely commentary on things he reads.

Also worth a skim: Holy Women & Everyday Hero Priests -UPDATE by Elizabeth Scalia

Happy Wednesday, y'all! And thanks for reading.