What I really want to do now is to stop teaching -- leave this part-time job, the leftovers after I retired and left the position. It's too painful to have been good at what I did, and now to feel inadequate because there's too little time to do enough. I used to include the lowest level student, now I can only work toward the better ones. That doesn't feel right.
What's quite amazing is that I went to a party at Lorna and Warren's house and, at the end of the evening, talked very briefly to a woman who is a caretaker for the elderly. She's sixty-seven, needs to make some money and wants to remain active. She works two twelve-hour shifts a week. That sounds good. Someone else told me about a similar job early this summer, but I lost that information. I managed to keep hold of the card this woman gave me on Friday evening and e-mailed her this afternoon. That's moving, in some direction.
By the end of the week, I'm hoping to do a budget with the help of a friend. Then I'll know whether I really do have to keep on working, not that I want to stop. I'm programmed to work. I like working. Not working seems like death. Being creatively productive isn't enough. That's not work. That's a necessity.