Sometimes I forget that I work. That what I do counts as work and has value. I don't have an external office with a schedule and colleagues. How can my life have value?
I keep the kitchen stocked and make sure there is dinner on the table and food and snacks to take myself and my husband through the upcoming days. It sometimes seems worthless until I notice it's easy to spend a hundred bucks on a meal for two I enjoy less than what I get at home.
I manage the rental of two flats. That sometimes really feels like non-work, the money arrives detached from effort on my part. Maybe I'm just a parasite. But then the tenants with the new baby suddenly need their washing machine replaced and I am working late at night tracking down a washer, someone to transport it, someone to install it, meeting them, coordinating their efforts. Keeping track of folks who have the skills and tools and strength I don't have that can be needed at a moment's notice. And not everyone is in a position to own their home. Not everyone wants to. The college kids who will only be here a few years don't need the headache and expense. I make it easy for them to belong here for a while, provide them with a nice place at a fair price.
