In which my Jewish geekiness emerges
And yet...suddenly, the second the pressure of work was off me, I lost my compulsion to scurry to the computer at every free moment (and admittedly at some moments that are not quite free). Not that I didn't check in, but not in quite such a compulsive way. Zees tells us, I sink, that I have to do something about how bored I am wiss my regular life, no? I think Rachel is onto something and you have to have something going on besides the routines of life (and, in my case, the routines of work, at a job I (mostly) love but which I have nonetheless been doing for EIGHT YEARS, which is longer than I've ever done anything and is I think--shhh! Don't tell them at work!--quite long enough for me). Blogging is for me that Something. But it turns out that when I have time and space to think I have room for other things that feel bigger.
Want to know what I was doing all day yesterday so absorbedly while MG was playing (or procrastinating on cleaning her room, which comes to the same thing)? I was WRITING A HAGGADAH! For just five people. Us, and the mom-and-daughter duo who are coming over on Thursday. I'm not linking to it because I swiped tons of things from other sources (including this wonderful one by the Velveteen Rabbi) and didn't credit them properly, but just about all the English verbiage (besides the translations of standard prayers) is mine.
I cut it down to the bare bones, didn't put in almost any of the lovely philosophical or political stuff I wanted to, and left out a ton of the traditional filler: the Four Sons and all that nattering about the rabbis staying up all night studying and the Kabbalistic yammer about exactly how many miracles were performed, et al. After all, the intended consumers for all this are two five-year-old girls, one of which has practically no Jewish background; one bemused non-Jew (RW); one grownup who's technically Jewish but whose main experience of that is a few dimly-remembered seders from her own childhood; and me. So, not too much on-and-on; we need to cut to the chase. On the other hand, I didn't want to leave out any of the important stuff, like the story itself and the fun things they might remember in fifteen years when it occurs to them that they're in college (or wherever) three thousand miles from home and seders are no longer grownup things that they're dragged to but something they might just possibly miss and want to put together on their own. The future of the Jewish people rests in my frantically cutting-and-pasting hands!
I knew I'd gone over the edge when, last night after our Internet turned into a pumpkin at 10:30, I stayed up for another hour or so reformatting the whole thing into Landscape with two columns, so I could make it into a booklet instead of an 8x11 photocopied packet.
Okay. Gotta go. Pages to order, clip-art to swipe, that kind of thing.
(And did I mention all the cooking and cleaning and calling-of-the-dentist and stuff that I'm managing not to do while absorbed in this project? No? Hmm, guess not.)