A raisin in the Sun

The saddest thing of all is that I sit in front of a computer forty hours a week and I could guess only 25 hours of that are spent working. Add to this average, the fact that I would happily spend my lunch hours, Saturday mornings and random weekday nights doing the very same thing and you start to really see the issue. I have the ability to write, to put everything I want out of my head down on paper in a coherent way that gives back to the world and yet, I don’t do it. Not one bit. And so this is the first day of what should be a real commitment, because I cannot accept another failed attempt to bring what I really love into my life.

I watched a crappy reality show yesterday that made me laugh and this old woman said to her granddaughter: You must find what you really love and you must do what you can to make that your life. That woman was so wise. Her wisdom filled up my living room and my heart. I work as a secretary, for the state. It is an easy job, and I am thankful for it. It leaves room for writing in my life and I intend to utilize that as much as possible. If I don’t, I am certain my eulogy could easily be Langston Hughes' poem, “Harlem” :

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

Here is to my new goals. May I be a healthy, rolling, grapefruit or a proud, productive pear.