“So…. What do you do?”
If I had a nickel for every time I was asked this , I could hire a bodyguard.
I moisten my ashen lips.
Um…. I’m kind of like a Girl Friday…. for everyone.
But that sounds lame and vague. And besides, sometimes I’m like Robinson Crusoe. And sometimes I’m like his goat.
And unless you want to play the Literary Mr. Potato-Head Game with me, there is no tidy answer.
My body is tired at night. I have calluses from something.
There’s gotta be a word for this.
“I just live.
Living is dirty work, but I like it.”
– 5 year old Winkle, from The Rosemary Tree, by Elizabeth Goudge