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Hitchhiking through the writing galaxy…

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It’s been 42 days since I stepped away from the corporate world to make a living as a full-time writer. Buoyed by my spouse’s health insurance and my entire circle’s belief that I could do it…I did.

Initially business was swift and I was dealing with things like invoicing. This month, I’ve cleared $120. That’s about 10 percent of what I would make in two weeks at my former soul-sucking day job. You don’t have to do the math to know I’m living the starving artist gig right now.

With three teenagers in the house, the cupboards have gotten bare quickly. Two days ago, I went and asked for help via our local food bank. My care package contained 42 items. I found that rather telling, you know the Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything.

Additionally, my goal for the next few months – my deadline list, as I call it, contains 42 different submissions. If anything, maybe I’ll win at the numbers game.

As of today there are 42 days until I finally earn my Bachelor’s of Arts & Literature, too.

Are you seeing a theme here?

I’m not completely going all Jim Carey in the movie 23…but, it’s definitely given me pause. So, like any good writer, I started to do some research.

In Japan, the 42 is a sign wearing misfortune. From what I could decipher, it’s something about a signal of death. Yikes.

Further research showed that Christianity might have it out for me and my number 42. In the Bible is seems to symbolize a time of suffering and test. The 42 generations from Abraham is when Christ showed up on the scene. The gentiles trampled the holy city during 42 months. The famine of the time of Elijah lasted 42 months. The Odes of Solomon are 42 (well that’s awesome, I love Solomon’s poetry).

Go back even further to the Ancient Egyptians – and they had divided their country into 42 parts. Additionally, Mesopotamian tradition says that the surface of the Tower of Babel occupies 42 agrarian measures. And we all know what happened to the Tower of Babel.

Just on a lark, I asked my youngest son what the number 42 meant. He said, “Baseball. It was Jackie Robinson’s number, Mom.”  That was more positive.

Jackie Robinson, a positive bearer of the number 42.

My daughter said it was a positive number in the ancient numerology beliefs.  She said it counsels and comforts others. It likes music, particularly rhythm. I’d like to get into a rhythm with my writing, that’s for sure. A rhythm of paychecks. Other research into numerology suggested that it means domestic struggle. Heh. So far my partner has been hugely supportive. He even went so far as saying this morning “Oh, you thought it would be easy?” No, I didn’t think it would be easy; but, I thought it would be easier.

However, anything worth having, is worth fighting for is what they wise people say, yes? So, I putting on my literary spacesuit and going where I’ve not gone before. Yes, screw you 42…whatever you mean. I’m going to keep on keeping on. Because tomorrow will be a different number, yes? And maybe that number will be my lucky one.

 

 

 

 

 

Published inLife-Writing BalanceWriting

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