It's So Cold...

...only my eyes were showing, through the folds of wool scarf.

...while I was waiting for the bus tonight, my eyes teared up.

...I wiped away the tears, afraid of them turning into tiny icicles, or sealing my eyes shut.

...I thought about spitting on the ground to see if it would freeze, but I didn't want to waste the heat.

...my whole body tensed into a hard, shivering rock.

...my muscles ached from bracing myself.

...I'm still not warm.

Reading List 2008: Making Time to Read

Have you ever experienced a “doomdart”? A doomdart is when a responsibility or obligation you’ve forgotten suddenly and unexpectedly pops into your brain. Immediately after you remember this important but neglected task and you feel a wave of stress and nausea wash over you. If you’re like most people, overloaded and stressed out, you’ve experienced a doomdart, without having a name for it. Dr. Edward Hallowell’s award winning book CrazyBusy: Overstretched, Overbooked, and About to Snap! (256 pages) not only names common problems like doomdarts, but offers tangible solutions to living overloaded lives.

Dr. Hallowell explains that as culture, we have undergone a dramatic shift in our intellectual energy, with the integration of communication technology (like internet, cell phones, and PDAs) and the expansion of the traditional 40-hour work week. As an expert on Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), he demonstrates that most of us adopt ADD-like traits in order to function at a breakneck speed. However, most people don’t function at full capacity because their attention is simply stretched too thin.

Dr. Hallowell provides solutions for not only surviving but thriving in a world where we have so many responsibilities and gadgets competing for our attention. Most importantly, he encourages us to be selective in how we choose to spend our time. Are we matching our output with our intention? If we are spending too much time on activities we don’t enjoy, or that don’t give us rewarding experiences in return, we should minimize these activities as much as possible.

I would strongly recommend this book to anyone who feels stretched too thin, which would be all of us. It's an excellent description of our modern lives and offers interesting solutions to our dilemma.

Total For 2008: 1079 pages
Genres: Memoir (1), Essay (1), Graphic Novel (1)

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Ripping Someone Off

This poem's form was inspired by Matthea Harvey's The Future of Terror series, which I wrote about yesterday. But more importantly, it was inspired by the trigger over at read. write. poem. You should run over there to check out other wonderful poems, written about "Traveling Companions."

On the Bus

Babbling babies drool in mommas' laps
buried beneath
layers of blue fleece blankets.
Sour, end of day bad breath

crowds the aisles, shared
carbon dioxide clinging
to our closed mouths. Cacophony
of overloud cell phone conversations,

diluted digital music streams
murmuring from dislodged iPod
ear buds. Dank lighting
drained of all color, but yellow. Don't

evade eye contact, don't
erupt into edgy rage. Never cross
the equator of your seat
even on days your coat's too long,

or your bag's too full. Forget
the time time table, finish line
of your final destination.
The faint whisper of Fuck, fuck, fuck,

from the gelatinous grandma up front,
her grating whine. Gracefully
embrace the gorge of the aisle
as the godforsaken bus shudders

to a halt. Here is your escape:
hop over the gray snow bank,
hear the hum of diesel engines,
hurtling down the street.

Do Politics and Poetry Mix?

Here are some pictures of a collage I made while listening to the Republican and Democratic presidential debates on Saturday night. (The bottom right picture is of my cat, Said, who is named after Edward Said, not the Lost character.) Yes, that's exactly what I did on Saturday night. I listened to 10 politicians discuss their policy differences and played with magazine cut-outs, paper and paints. I think that's why the paper is red and blue.

I'm torn (no pun intended) on what to do with all of the interesting things I'm learning about the presidential race. I've decided to volunteer more heavily with the Obama campaign, something that I started to do back in December. It's exciting and fun and interesting, and I'm really enjoying being involved in the political process, for once in my adult life. For instance, we went to an awesome campaign rally in Minneapolis on Saturday and got to meet some very nice fellow supporters.

However, the campaign is quickly taking over my brain and I'm wondering whether or not it belongs on this blog. I thought about starting a new blog just for this section of my life, because (if we're lucky and successful) I'll be volunteering on this campaign almost all year. I've always envisioned this blog to be about my poetry and personal life, not my political practices. But now, they're all coalescing together.

The larger question I'm asking myself is whether or not politics and poetry and real life mix. To be honest, I've always written political poetry. But it's political ideology, not political reality. There's something that seems sort of messy and mundane about who's running for president, as opposed to the systems of our culture. The blog issue is just representative of the larger question. I could segregate the political stuff to a separate blog, so that I could see the easy division of these spheres of my life. (And also not annoy readers with any political polemic. I certainly don't want to bore people with policy issues if they're expecting free verse.) But the spheres aren't that separate. It wouldn't be authentic to separate them, because the I live it all together, which is why I was collaging while listening to debates. This is the shape of my life right now: poetry, real life, and politics, all smooshed into one.

Don't worry, I won't be writing sonnets about presidential politics. (There aren't that many rhymes for mandates or ethics anyway.) I just want to be authentically representing what's going on in my life. What's going on in my life, right now, is that I'm participating in democracy. And it's really fun!

What I've Been Up To: A Pictoral Guide

Visiting my in-laws in Nebraska (2 days of driving, 2 days of visiting)...

Eating Holiday Goodies...

Finishing the Third Season of Lost and theorizing...

Hibernating...

I'm hoping to find some writing time, in between all of this and work, too.

Preventative Retail Therapy

Today was a long day at work. I knew it was going to be a long day. I had six days off for Thanksgiving (and because I work Saturday) and in the back of my mind I knew that today was going to be long. Those six days off are now a fleeting memory.

Since I knew what was coming, I did a little preventative retail therapy yesterday. I visited my local paper shop and did some buying. I got myself a Paper Palette, which is a huge combination of scrap papers and two different paper color packs, blue and red. Hands down, the Paper Palette is way better.

I sorted it all yesterday into color piles yesterday, while watching Bones Season 1 on DVD. It was so much fun to just sort it, because I couldn't tell from the package what was included and I was constantly surprised by the papers. Ooh -- orange and blue floral! Wow -- black with pink paisley! Purple and lavender zebra stripes, cool!

While there are lots of colors represented, my favorites are these deep wine-y magenta fuzzy floral patterns, that are paired with gold metallic relief. It's fuzzy and pretty. So while I was running around my school like a chicken with my head cut off, I was secretly dreaming of purple paper.

Now if only I wasn't too tired to play with it. *Sigh*

Work Friends

Last night, my husband and I went to the MN Rollergirls bout, which is our favorite winter date. Our teams, the Rockits and the Atomic Bombshells unfortunately lost to the Duke City Derby's Muñecas Muertas and the Denver Roller Dolls' Mile High Club respectively. But it was still fun.

While we were waiting in line before the game, we bumped into an old friend of mine from my Pier 1 Days. I probably had not seen him in 6 months at least and we had seen each other maybe two or three times since I quit the job two years ago. However, as we talked, it wasn't awkward or weird -- it was just fun. It was as if we had just gotten off of a night shift and were hanging out afterwards. It made me realize that I missed his friendship, but at the same time when we parted ways, I didn't ask for contact info.

I think that's the nature of some work friendships. I've had a lot of really close, good work friendships that have gone by the wayside since I've left the job. For instance, there’s the guy who made me dance on a box at a gay night club because I lost a bet or the other guy who predicted that I would marry my husband, when I only had been dating him for a year, or the girl who lent me all the episodes of Carnivale on video, so that we could talk about it during our shared shifts. I could go on.

With work friendships most of the contact revolves around the job -- hating it, loving it, trying to escape from it, or just talking about it. Certainly, when I saw my friend last night we spent a lot of time catching up with each other about the job. It makes me a little sad to think about it, but work is the common denominator, and once you've left that specific workplace, you've lost your tie to that person. It makes me feel a little cold to look at it this way, but it seems to be true from my experience. When work friendships extend outside of the job, which I've also had happen, it normally means that you have something else in common.

As my friend and I were talking, I realized how much my life has changed since I left that job. It seems like each job I've had contributes a little piece to my personality and my personality shifts slightly when I move on to a new job. Maybe that's why it's hard to maintain work friendships after the work isn't around. You have to change and develop new qualities, and the old qualities that make the friendship work need to atrophy.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

With my new job, my commute has changed dramatically. I once drove 25-35 minutes each way, depending on traffic. I had to take five different highways, across the south metro, in order to get to work. There were some things were really lovely things about my commute. Half an hour each day of MPR, for one thing, and the view of the downtown Minneapolis skyline from the 94 overpass in the early evening, for another. But, I hated driving so far and so long to get to work.

Now, I take the bus to work every day. It's a 20 minute bus trip, with maybe 5-10 minutes of standing outside waiting for the bus to arrive in the morning or the evening. The bus takes me straight through the Seward neighborhood, a really hip and diverse area. Even though the bus stops at every block, practically, I enjoy it so much more.

It's such a shift in lifestyle and focus, to ride the bus each day. Driving in a car is a solitary activity -- I'm in my car, in my little bubble, driving at ridiculously high speeds next to other cars, other people in their little bubbles. A bus ride, on the other hand, is a communal experience. Especially during rush hour. I am pressed next to other travelers, trying to get to their respective jobs, schools, and lives.

But with my own space comes a certain level of freedom. When I'm driving in my car, I can argue with the politicians on MPR, sing along to my Ani DiFranco tapes, and pick my nose, if I wanted. When I'm on the bus, I journal in the mornings and people watch or read at night. I've been doing morning pages, a la Julia Cameron, to start my day off with a focus on my writing. I plug in my ear buds and tap my feet, maybe, but otherwise stay motionless. The goal on a bus is not to be noticed, not to take up too much space, not to annoy your fellow commuters. The goal in your car has nothing to do with the other commuters. It's about your own destination.

To be sure, I love the bus commute more. I could drive to work each day, and make it in 10 minutes, but there's something that's so relaxing and calming about this bus commute. There's less independence and flexibility, but I get to watch the neighborhood to pass by my window, without having to battle the traffic. I get to watch the people on the bus, in all their idiosyncrasies. And I get to start my day by writing, which is the way it should be.

So what if the guy next to me smells like beer at 8:30 AM?

Unpoetic

Did Emily Dickinson or Edna St. Vincent Millay ever have days (weeks) where they didn't feel poetic? Where they just were bone tired and didn't have the energy to see things with the lyric eye? I suppose, this could be why one was a recluse and the other was a drug addict, but I have a feeling it's not.

This week is the week where I have two jobs. I still have one week of teaching left at the old job, and I've begun working at the new job. So I work for two hours in the morning at the new job, leave at 11:30, commute for half an hour, teach for two hours, commute for another half an hour, then work for three hours at the new job. Gulp.

So all this driving, sitting at computers, last minute grading, completing of human resources paper work, and meeting new coworkers, has left me drooling on the couch, watching all the new must see shows for the fall. (Chuck and Reaper weren't half bad, even if I was in a drooling state. Or perhaps because I was in a drooling state.)

I want to write poems. I have the desire, somewhere deep in my body. I had inspiration -- both Writers Island and the Traveling Poetry Show are giving me prompts galore. But, mostly, I just want to relax and drool.

So, I think tonight, I'm going to try this exercise out of Julia Cameron's The Right to Write. (I've been reading it for a week. It's kind of her "Just Do It" mantra book, so far.) I'm paraphrasing her directions: In order to get in touch with the writerly side, find a quiet place to sit, and number a list from 1 to 100. Then, fill the list with things that you love. Then, post the list at your writing desk.

I think I'll try it before falling into bed. If it doesn't work, I should snap out of this by Friday, my last day at the old job.

My Last Dance

Today, I gave my swan song presentation at work today. For banned books week, I gave a half-hour presentation on the power dynamics of book censorship. We discussed the cycle of banning ideas we are afraid of, in order to avoid discussing the issues. I also suggested the 5 books that "The Man" doesn't want you to read. They were:

1) Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
2) Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
3) Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
4) Howl by Allen Ginsberg
5) Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

At the end of the presentation, I played this video, which is a collage of post-WWII images set to a portion of "Howl."

When the presentation was over, one of my students came to me and said that he felt bad that we were discriminating against the books. This made me miss teaching, just a little bit.

Po Bronson Made Me Do It

Way back in May, I began reading Po Bronson's book, What Should I Do With My Life?. I've really enjoyed it, but found that it was bathtub reading, in between all the other books I was reading. I finally finished it today, in the bathtub, of course.

While reading this book on and off all summer, I knew I needed to do something different with my life. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy my job, but it's draining. It's a lot of grading, a lot of conflict management, and a lot of extra hours. Hours I should be spending on my writing. So, I slowly began to look around, to see if there was anything better out there. Luckily, I think I found it.

I am happy to report that at the beginning of this week, I was able to put in my notice at my current job, to accept another position at another school. Instead of teaching and administrating, as I do at my current job, I will be coordinating. In fact, I will be coordinating a new office at a local college (15 minute bus ride from home, rather than a 30 minute commute) that will serve 5 master's degree programs. I get to work an alternative schedule, get be closer to home, and get to be hourly, instead of salaried.

The best part -- I can take classes for free at this school. Their art department has website design, book arts, and photography.

I start my new position at the end of the month and I can't wait!

Things I'll Never Do Again

A friend of mine and I went on a lunch break trip to Ragstock, a hipster vintage store, in order to buy a Hawaiian shirt for his Tiki presentation at our workplace. (Long story.)

While at the check-out counter, I noticed the artfully stacked tubs of Manic Panic hair dye. For the uninitiated, Manic Panic is the hair dye of choice if you would like to have bubblegum pink, electric blue, or toxic orange hair. First, you bleach your hair an ungodly shade of white, then use the Manic Panic. Voila! Your hair is suddenly radioactively bright.

After we left, I sighed and said, "I'll never be able to Manic Panic my hair again." It's true. I work for a corporate school, and if I showed up with Cherry Cola colored hair, I'd be in severe trouble. It's a fact of my adult life.

My friend laughed and said, "Well, I'll never be able to pick up chicks at a coffee shop anymore." He's happily married, and has been for several years. In fact, he and the wife are in the process of buying a house right now.

"I'll never know what's cool to wear in clothes anymore." I countered. This lead to the things I'll never do again discussion. We countered back and forth with all the things we cannot do because we're adults with mortgages (or soon to be mortgages), spouses, and Important Jobs.

So some things I'll never be able to do again: Pierce or tattoo any portion of my face. Shave my head. Quit a job without having another one as a back up. Work for minimum wage and have party money left over. Know about a band before everyone else does. Be the smartass in the back of the classroom. Ignore my homework (or other obligation.)

This isn't a bad thing. During that phase in my life, I wasn't that happy about having to know what's hip and having to fit in. And, it's not that I want to do any of these things again. In fact, when I had the 13 year window of time to dye my hair leprechaun green, I mostly didn't. But, it's a bit melancholy to recognize that I'm now past that time in my life. Luckily, there are many benefits to this phase in my life. Like compound interest and home equity and 401(k) plans.

My Online Résumé is Up & Available

After working on this dang thing for a month, I am finally finished with my online résumé. Of course, I will continue to develop it as time goes on, but for now it is ready for public consumption.

Feel free to take a gander at http://jessicafoxwilson.blogspot.com.

Thanks!

I'm Not Turning In To Oprah, But...

I do like one of her special books. A couple of months ago I picked up the Po Bronson book What Should I Do With My Life? at a library used book sale. I finally gotten around to reading it.

Surprisingly, it's very good. In it, he describes the lives of people who are either in the process of figuring out what to do with their lives or has already figured out what to do with their lives. He conveys their themes in short, descriptive chapters that seem to be working towards a larger idea...although I don't know what that it is, yet.

Now, I've always liked books like this. In fact, I read the book Gig about a year ago and it still sticks with me. But the way in which Bronson tells these stories, he seems to be honoring a person's personal path towards knowing oneself. And that they can be found despite or because of our work.

I was reading this evening and the following paragraph, from a chapter about a college career counselor who is kind of directionless, blew my mind:

Tomorrow, some five thousand students would dress in their gowns, and walk through a ceremony to mark the beginning of the rest of their lives. They were young and exuberant brimming with potential. Were the prepared to hang on to that feeling, when pedestrian reality would try to box them in? Were they ready? Partly because of my own experience, I wanted to stop each of them and whisper, "It might very quickly get overwhelming, but hang in there." pg. 31 -- What Should I Do With My Life? by Po Bronson

For someone who is always searching, this was a nice little wake up call.

Walking My Path

This week, I have been feeling incredibly overwhelmed. My schedule has been, to say the least, in transition. A couple of weeks ago, I started an online course in order to learn more about teaching reading to students and to get a certificate in advanced literacy. From the outside, it made sense.

Now that I'm on the inside, I am being swallowed by a mountain of work. Last weekend, I had a long weekend due to a snow storm. I got ahead (or so I thought) in my homework, but didn't do any 9 to 5 work, which was so relaxing and deserved. This week, though, was a killer. I had to make up all sorts of administration work, not to mention all of the grading and teaching reorganizing I had to do. So, while last weekend, I was in my PJ's surfing MySpace, this weekend I'll be in my PJ's grading and doing next week's homework.

To top it all off, my younger male cat, has decided to reclaim his territory. He has taken to peeing on our bed. With us in bed. Often right on us or next to us. It's disgusting. We've had to wash our sheets and comforters dozens of times. In fact, one night, he had peed on all 3 of them, in order, and we had to sleep in sweatsuits.

On Thursday night, I was feeling especially overwhelmed. Over the weekend, I had signed up through my grad school, for a two hour workshop called "Walking the Labyrinth" with an instructor named Julie Neraas. This was back when I wasn't stumped on my response paper and saddled with a stack of personal essays to grade. I thought I was going to be done for on Thursday night. But, I went anyway, because I already paid 10 bucks for the event.

I am so glad that I went, despite the stress and extra work it caused me. First of all, I saw a couple of my old classmates, including someone who took a travel course to Greece with me in 2002. But most of all, it was an effective workshop. Julie led us on a discussion of vocation and calling. We discussed what it means to find meaningful work and how we can balance work with being artists. Then, she initiated a guided meditation, where we would find the question we wanted to answer in the labyrinth.

After all this, we walked a labyrinth identical to the picture above. It took about an hour to walk, because I was journaling and walking at the same time. Not to mention that there are 34 turns in the labyrinth, and that's only going in one way. You have to walk in and out on the same path. How's that for a metaphor?

While I can't say that I had any epiphany moments, the experience really crystallized some questions for me. It's funny, that when I'm searching, I only seem to find questions, rather than answers. The specific questions that I was asking myself had been burbling to the surface for the past couple of days (years), and they all centered around what my path really is and what things I need to do in order to find it and walk it. I'm often so tied down by obligation and responsibility, which I create in excess for myself, that I forget to ask if the task is necessary and if I have to be the one to do it. I also really wondered why I am so task driven, rather than relationship driven. I always choose work over joy, fun, and friendship.

Of course, all the stress came rushing in the moment I returned to my car. But, now I have some questions to ask myself and think about over the next couple of days (lifetime.) I don't know if I'll ever answer these questions, but at least I know that I can consciously ask them now.

D-Day

I started an online education class today, and I'm not sure why. I know, partially, it's because I love school and I love learning. I also know that it's because I want to try to start a doctorate program, and I'm not exactly getting any younger. It's because I love education and I want to learn as much as I can about teaching students.

But it's also because I'm crazy. It's because I don't like having any free time. It's because I like to think of life as an all you can eat buffet of responsibility, and I like to see exactly how much I can pile on my plate. Also, I think I'm doing this and freaking out because I see my husband working on school work and I think, "why not me too?"

I guess there are a million reasons why I'm trying this, but because it's new and because I'm scared, I'm panicking just a little bit. I'm worried that I won't be able to hack it in school and work and writing and I know something's going to give. I'm afraid that I'll forget about writing, and focus too much on my job and school. It's easy for me to forget about the things that bring me joy, sometimes.

Not to come to any sort of false resolution here, but I also know that this is going to be a good thing. This is going to allow me to learn more and grow and stretch. I'll just have to, once again, reorder my life and realize what my priorities truly are. And that can be truly scary and wonderful, at the same time.

Teacher Moment

I had one of those cheesy, after school special teacher moments with one of my students two days ago. I'm being a little overly glib here, it actually meant a lot to me, because I was having a really rough day.

One of my students came up to me in the hall to tell me that he had just been awarded an internship at a prestigious resort. I congratulated him and shook his hand. He then said to me, "I never told you this before, but your class really helped me. By letting me write about what I wanted to write about and supporting me, it really opened up my life." I had to mock getting teary-eyed, because I was really getting a little weepy.

I've been thinking about that all week. I'm at a point with my class that I teach it by memory. We have 8 six week terms a year, 2 sections of English a term, times 2 years. I've probably taught my course about 80-90 times. If I have 20 students in each section, I've taught about 110 students at this school alone.

I forget that I develop significant relationships with these people. I say hi to them in the hallways, check up on them after their done with me, but I'm their first contact (since English is their first course) to higher education and to the way that learning changes you.

I also forget that the things I say in the first week:

writing is a path to personal expression and self awareness

writing can open up new worlds for you

the way you view and use language shows your world view

are actually true. And they actually matter to people other than me. I'm really lucky that I have this job.

Bourgeois Poets Unite!

This essay in the NY Times Book Review section is fantastic! Jim Harrison reflects on Karl Shapiro's book Bourgeois Poet. This book deals with the struggling life of the poet-professor, the holy grail profession in the land of academic poets. For me, this article couldn't have come at a better time. Just when I'm contemplating what to do with my career, I read Harrison's quote:

"You will most likely get the back of the muse’s hand whether you have a chair at Harvard or are pumping septic tanks in Missouri."

Just the type of encouragement I need at the time I needed it.

Twin Lives

This shouldn't be a problem. Seriously, I think I'm a little off, because I can find the difficult (and the drama) in everything. I guess that's why I write poetry and why I'm glad my husband puts up with me, at times.

I actually have two jobs at my school. I teach two classes per term in English and/or 20th century literature. I love love love this part of my job. While the students aren't always in love with what I do, I can normally turn them around. I've been teaching at this school since I finished my thesis in graduate school, about two years. The other half of my job (up until a week ago) was Lead Instructor, basically the manager of the department. The department consists of all of the instructors involved in the non-culinary aspects of the school. Since we hire only adjuncts, we vary between 6-12 instructors, depending on the term. This part of the job can be stressful because the school has problems, which I am trying to fix, as best as I can. I've had this half of my job for almost a year.

This job makes me feel, at times, like I am divided by two. I wear two hats, have two duties, and they take up a lot of my time. Over the couple of years, while I have tried to leave this job for a real professor job, it's become clear to me that those jobs don't exist anymore. Not for profit and for profit schools alike both hire only adjunct instructors and I don't think I can live term to term like that, what with my exorbitant school loans and my not-so-exorbitant mortgage. When I was an adjunct, I had to work retail, and I just don't see myself doing that anymore.

Now here's the cool/scary part. My bosses (president of the school, et al) gave me a huge promotion last week. (They like me, they really like me.) They are now calling me Department Chair, which means that I will teach less (1 class a term instead of 2) and administrate more. I'll be more involved in the education initiatives of the school and the nature of the education we provide. So, I'll be in a better position to fix the problems we have. That's cool and I'm really happy that happened.

So now, I have these two careers. My education career as a future administrator and my writing career as a poet/teacher. One is really doing well and one is not. Unfortunately, I really like being an administrator but I am passionate about being a poet/teacher. With the education and training that I have, this is as I high as I can go. If I had to leave this school and go somewhere else, I would need to work myself up from the bottom again, because most schools require a master's degree in education (not poetry) for administrative jobs.

Here's my conflict. I should/could start up school again. There are several schools around me which offer Ed.d programs (doctorates in education) that would allow me to progress higher as an administrator, later in life. The programs take 5-7 years to complete, taking one class a term. My school will pay for my education, because they are dedicated to personal growth, so I can do this for free.

But by doing this, am I saying goodbye to being a poet? Am I admitting to myself that writing is fun and my passion, but ultimately not rewarding? I always knew that by dedicating myself to poetry, I am dedicating myself to a life of rejection letters, low salaries, and anonymity. While I have always known that I am never going to be a Mary Oliver or Adrienne Rich, I did fancy for myself a small teaching/writing career. With undertaking a new degree, I would be slicing into my very precious, very scarce writing time and turning it into homework time. I know it would be beneficial for my career and I know it would make me happy, but it's not poetry.

I know this seems silly, but I am stressing so much about this because most of the Ed.d programs in my city start every two years, in odd numbered years. In other words, I need to apply now-ish in order to start school in 9 months. Or I need to wait two years, which wouldn't be the end of the world.

I know most poets don't work in the academic world. Dana Gioia was the VP of General Foods before he was the chair of the NEA. Wallace Stevens spent his whole life being the Vice President of an insurance company. So there are 9 to 5 models out there. But can I truly be one of them, when life starts creeping in?