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What I will do

The sun is up. 
Everywhere people are striving to make and take money. 
Men ask me, the all defining question:
"What do you do?"
I know what I don't do:
I don't want for more free time. 
I don't have a Hellish commute. 
I don't look in the mirror and feel hatred at myself for a job that goes agaisnt my morals. 

"It's just a job", he said, when I asked him if he felt guilt that he was the engineer that repaired the broken machines that make billions of coffee cups that litter our streets. 

It is 8:00 am. My cat has already said good morning. My boss: myself, feels like it is time for coffee and an eventual shower. 

I guess if I felt that that job defined him, I can't wonder why people ask me so quickly what I do. 

I write books, I make art, I volunteer, I clean houses. Nothing that I do makes me feel ashamed. 

I will answer the question "What do you do?" with pride from now on.  And today I will work on my biggest project. Healing my scavenged heart. I will do that by making my house a home.

 A sanctuary where I only invite my loved ones in. 




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