To Be Free, or Not To Be....
In Jane of the Jungle on page 2, Jane, a recent widow, throws over her previous typical life of caring for a beloved husband and working at a job to keep it all going:
“Afterward I was drowning in medical bills and couldn’t pay the mortgage. So one day I just up and quit my emergency nursing job and wrote several letters: one to the bank, thanking them for the house and giving it back to them; one to the bill collectors suggesting they put their bills in their collective rectum; and one to my priest asking him to pray for my outlaw soul and vote Democrat in the next election.”
I am retired, after a long history of working at jobs where I always got rave job evaluations once a year and lots of sh*t frombosses on a weekly basis. Occasionally, it was deserved, but mostly it was a wife/husband who said no, being cut off in traffic, heartburn, a mouthy kid, or any of the number of things people in charge seem to bring to work with them.
It makes me sad to think that being good at your work does not exempt one from being a target.
How often as a wife, mother, worker, I wanted to do exactly what Jane did, to throw over my traces and run free. I didn’t, having a child and a lack of courage at the time; but sometimes, when I am alone and quiet, I wonder what might have been.