One Year

December 22 was the anniversary of my last day as a lawyer, and even though I haven't written about it, I've been thinking about it a lot. I really thought more would have changed in this year. I thought I would have found a purpose. I thought I would have a plan by now. But I don't. After a really lovely, lazy year, I'm still me. Lazy and purposeless and floating through the days in a haze of denial. My hair has more gray. I have two cats instead of one. Distressingly, I think both my pores and my thighs have gotten larger. I've been to SE Asia and read a lot of books and learned how to put mud on drywall. But shouldn't I have done something, learned something, well, grander? Wasn't I supposed to be working on myself? Designing a life?

The bottom line of my savings account is getting very close to the number I told myself would mark the end of this lark, the signal to get serious and get a real job. I know I want to stay in Idaho. I guess that's progress. I'm studying for the Idaho bar, but I still don't really want to be a lawyer, and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to find a job as one. Or any job that pays more than $10/hour when it comes to that. It's not like I'm going out into a great economy. And now I have a big old gap in my resume. It's Christmas Eve and my year is over, but I'm still holding on to it. I'm not ready to let it go. I've loved it too much. Even if it wasn't quite what I imagined.