I am feeling very downtrodden about money today. moving is hard on finances in general, and I hate being in the limbo of not knowing what my future rent will be, or how much of a deposit I'll have to pay, or how far into the hinterlands I'll have to go in order to afford to live. I am, in general, growing weary of this stress. there's obviously great joy to be had in working in a field you truly love -- I'm the last person to deny it -- but in my case, it comes at a price. last week, I steadfastly defended my choice to continue down this career path to my backpacking buddy, who wondered, incredulous, why I don't find some alternative. what alternative, I asked him, do you suggest I find? I suppose I'm stubborn and angry that I'd ever have to make that choice. a career in the arts never promised to be anything but impoverished; a master's in music never promised to be a golden ticket. but it would be nice to stop worrying about it for awhile.
tonight at the barn, all this weighing on my mind, I had a major temper tantrum when I went to dump the wheelbarrow and discovered that still, no one at the barn is managing the poo pile. unglamorous, I know, but true. I've long been the unofficial 'poo fairy,' going out at least once a week with the pitchfork to rake down the piles people dump. it's back-breaking work, and can take me several hours. otherwise, the entire thing becomes unnavigable. I worked on it on tuesday for much longer than I should have, and as a result I was at the barn until nearly 10 PM; I came home exhausted. today it was as bad as it had been before I worked it on tuesday, and there's no excuse for it.
but all this is to say: as I was driving home from the barn tonight, sweaty, hungry, dirty, and cranky, the sky at the horizon finally cleared of cloud, and it was such a deep and remarkable blue that it very nearly made up for everything else. you could have fallen into it forever.