6th: Deepend

As always there are other things I could be doing on a quiet Saturday afternoon but I don't feel I can proceed with any of them today until I've unloaded a little bit here. What is it that makes me keep coming back to this blog lately, when I had gone months without? 

Last night things got a little serious. We've been talking more and more about whether to have kids. Well, it's not really a "whether" so much as a "when." See, we got married and this pandemic happened and frankly I don't think I would have been ready for a year or so under normal circumstances but now here we are. And I guess Melo is getting a little anxious strategizing on when to pull the trigger. By now we know plenty of people who have gotten pregnant and/or given birth in the pandemic and with things going the way they are it's not likely to be much of a factor for much longer, but it is still a factor.

Mel implied if not outright stated she didn't feel that I was "in this" (not a direct quotes despite the punctuation) with her. I wouldn't say that's fair, but she's reading the situation to the best of her ability. I do have concerns that give me pause, none of which really dampen my desire to have a kid. I want one (at least one) but I am afraid of the unknown, of transitioning from people who live their lives freely to those who are responsible for a small person for 18 years or so. And I am afraid of what it will do to our dynamic which, while strong, is not as invulnerable as people think. We tussle, we gripe, we feel bad sometimes. There's inequalities in labour and stakes, not always where you think. Then there's me, grabbing spare moments when I can to diddle on the computer about old comics or weird stories, knowing that having a child to care for might actually mean the end of that just as it was getting going. Then there's also my frustration about the roadblocks in my career path and not feeling like there's a true way forward, but it might not be possible to pivot to anything else at this point. For about a half a minute last year I thought I could win the lottery and write something people would pay me to do but it sure seems less likely today. I began 2020 with the ambition to complete something that could potentially make my mark on the world and that didn't quite happen, but I did do a lot that gratified me and put me out there. Which is all well and good, and I'm semi-comfortable with the idea that writing is not where the money will ever come from for me (which is a shame, and the world's loss) but that doesn't change the fact that I'm otherwise stuck in the mud.

And what a baby has to do with this, I don't know. I'm afraid of both changing the status quo and getting locked into it. But eventually that's what life is.

Weekend afternoons. They are just about the end of me lately, let me tell you.

It's not, then, necessarily that I'm not excited about having a baby. Maybe I'm just not so excited for my life in general right now. Which is existentially upsetting but what can you say. That makes these days no different than all but a handful of my life.

Once I wrap up this post, I'll have a smidge of time. Sometimes I think, "Oh, I should start writing a book" or work on that script I still have ideas for. But those things are so long-haul, believe me, the thing I've been working on all year has proved how vital it is to continuously have a source of writing time. That's why I have all these little projects that make me feel good to get done that I can fit in when I have time. It's not ideal, but it's... something that works.

I'm a little down on myself, for my prospects to truly achieve my dreams, but I'm not out.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto