I got laid off last week. I feel very relevant. Very 2009.

I was working part time - three days a week - so the let down isn’t going to be as hard as it would have been had I been working full time. Still, those days were a big deal for me. I’d always assumed I would go back to work full time after my maternity leave. When I didn’t, I had to adjust my life outlook.

I liked it, though. I liked having free days to spend with Nora, although non-working days are, to be honest, sometimes hard for me. I know that sounds like complaining about having too much ice cream, but it’s true. This is why I think motherhood is tough, especially when moms stay at home (working parents obviously face challenges of their own, but that would take a whole other post.) Not only does the job require constant attention almost 100 percent of the time, but it can be a little isolating. You miss the intellectual stimulation of a day out. Yeah, yeah, I’m sure your day at the office was hard, too, but did you get poop on your hand? No? Then I don’t want to hear about it.

Also, an individual’s personality comes into play and unstructured days are definitely not my strength. I tend to excel at days where you have 2 or 3 or maybe 4 things planned and you’ve got to figure out how you’re going to do them all.

So that’s my immediate worry, I guess. That I’ve suddenly been thrown into a new lifestyle and I’m worried I won’t handle it well. Beyond the lack of income, and the fact that the journalism field is really floundering right now and I don’t know how or when I’m going to get another job, that’s the issue: an endless expanse of unstructured days spent mostly at home.

Breathe in, breathe out.

On the other hand, I realize how totally ungrateful I sound complaining about something like this. Here I am, living in a house, with food and clothes and a very supportive family, with my wonderful husband and daughter - who is AWESOME to hang out with, by the way - and I’m like, “Really? Temporary joblessness? I don’t think that’s gonna work out.” Come on, woman, get a grip.

I know, too, that there are many mothers who make the most of this situation. They are not only incredibly moms, but incredible people in general.

Realistically, I know that this will be a little blip on my own personal timeline. That I should shut up and enjoy it and wait for whatever comes next.

So, with “Ulysses” in hand (it’s definitely time), and an open mind, that’s what I’ll do.

Remember when I was out in San Diego and I had that unbelievable experience watching a bunch of birders searching for, like, an orange winged double breasted flycatcher or something?

At the time, all I could think was, “MAN this would make the best feature story ever! For The New York Times! Or The Washington Post! And then I’ll be famous!”

I mean, ok, mostly what I wanted to do was make fun of them in written format. Mostly.

Fine. Entirely.

But the truth is, my husband and his hobbies make for good writing projects no matter how I approach the subject. I had so much fun writing this story on highpointing (reaching the highest naturally point of elevation in every state) for findingDulcinea. And now I present it to you, readers.

Have fun. Get high…literally (I’m on my second cup of coffee and I’m on FIRE, watch OUT.)

Highpointing: A View From the Top

Some consider mountain climbing or hiking as hobbies. But there are others—highpointers—who are into something a little more specific: reaching the highest peak in every state, from the 345-foot Britton Hill in Florida to Alaska’s 20,320-foot Mount McKinley.

Read the full story here.

The saddest and funniest story ever.

The young male bruin had been wandering around the Frazee area prior to and during the town’s weekend Turkey Days celebration, spending six days with the large plastic jar stuck on its head before police decided to shoot it. They did not have a tranquilizer gun available at the time, despite having been tracking the bear for days.