Books, babies, and the great discontent.

Dear Zonk,

There was a bunch of little kids in my library today; learning to rhyme and write poetry. And a woman teaching them and another one just helping out. I lingered for a good hour or so, taking my time to pick my books and listening in on their session.

I love little kids. I love how their minds work and I love my library for doing so much to keep them interested in books. Every visit makes me a little more certain of the fact that I ought to be working with libraries someday.

I guess it’s nice to tell people that you’re a ‘designer’. It makes you seem suddenly interesting, somehow. A little niche, a little big; a little this-ain’t-for-you, if you know what I mean. But look past all the intrigue and you’ll see that I am but a maker of websites. Good ones, of course, nicely designed ones, always, but still, I make websites. Most days, it’s a fun job. Challenging and stressful and rewarding when things end well. But I know I won’t find it fulfilling for ever.

Then again, I’m not sure I’m built for fulfillment. And right now, I’m stewing in my own discontent.

Love always,
K.

Ps. I’m trying to get back into the habit of blogging regularly, and I feel rusty from months of disuse.

Pps. If any of you have jobs that make you happy, tell me about it, please.

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

2 thoughts on “Books, babies, and the great discontent.”

  1. Hmmm…. a job that makes me happy? Can’t really say that I do. Because there are definitely weekends when I’m down in the rut. Broken and disfigured from the week’s work. But it pays me well enough to keep working. It pays me enough to save some money to someday “pursue my dreams”. Don’t even know what the dreams are anymore. Besides a general idea that I want to do EVERYTHING from acting to music to writing.

    There was a time when I quit all jobs and decided to be the master of my fate and captain of my soul. That ended in a shipwreck. So, I decided to get back to the job scene. Listen to my parents, let them guide me through this whole jing-bang of life. Cause I realized that I really could be happy doing anything.

    Be good to people, don’t sell your soul, take care of yourself, smile when you can and I believe more or less you Will end up on the happy side of things. Hope that helps : ]

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