I just got back from a trip. It wasn't to be a vacation. It wasn't to be career related. It was to be life related. I just got back from Ohio where my son just graduated from college. First I have to say that I do not travel well. I am an unapologetic homebody control freak who not only hates to fly, but is absolutely terrified of being strapped in a seat at 35,000 feet up in the clear blue deadly air speeding along at, how fast do jets go? I'm guessing it's about a million miles an hour.

That's right - a million miles an hour. I'd have to be a moron not to be terrified, right?

But I was willing to risk several more gray hairs to see the man cub in his cap and gown get his very much deserved college diploma. As it turned out, my view was a little blurry - hard to see through tears, you know. Yes, I did fulfill my obligation as a mom. I blubbered throughout pretty much the whole ceremony.

But there was one section of the 3+ hour event that I didn't cry through. It was the address. The speaker was essayist, novelist, playwright, and distinguished professor of English at Stony Brook University, Roger Rosenblatt. Truth be told, I wasn't much interested in hearing him speak. I wasn't interested in hearing anyone speak. I was there to see my kid. And whatever or whomever didn't directly relate to my kid or my little personal universe, then it was all pretty much blah, blah, blah.

But Professor Rosenblatt changed my opinion right away and at the same time changed the overall view of what my trip turned out to be. The guy's hilarious. He speaks in a calm, deadpan fashion that urges you to lean forward in your seat. And just as you're tipped almost to ending up ass over tea kettle, he throws a line at you that sets you back in your chair, laughing said body part off with abandon.

A large part of what he talked about was, of course, now that you're done with college, what do you do with the rest of your life. But instead of telling them to roll up their shirt sleeves and get to work, the professor gave these hopeful young people some helpful tips on how to spend their lives avoiding work.

I wish I could remember the whole list of avoidance tips, but I do remember two of the. One was to become a Drug Czar. The other was to become a writer. Being a writer frees you from all sorts of responsibities, he advised. A CEO that has fallen from grace is a disappointment. A writer living in abject poverty is an acheivment.

This line of logic made the rows of robed and capped graduates laugh. This line of logic made me feel better. Suddenly, instead of feeling like a financial failure, I was right on target as a writer. Yes, I'm published. And yes, I'm buying nothing but store brands, baby. And work? Most people would think that spending most of the day in in your pajamas reading, staring at a heartless keyboard, or surfing the web is not work. Hey, Hulu is great reasearch. Seriously.

I have spent my adult life not working. I've had to work pretty much 24/7 in order to be able to do this, but it's been totally worth it. I think Professor Rosenblatt was right on. Work=bad. Passion for what you're working on = good. Plus, now I can greet the UPS guy in my rubber ducky pjs at 3:00 in the afternoon with my head held high. I'm a successful, store brand buying writer after all.

Hearing my son's name called and watching him walk down that aisle made this foray out into the world one of the highlights of my life. Hearing Professor Rosenblatt's speech was a bonus.

To quote BTO, "People see you having fun, just a lyin' in the sun. You tell them that you like it that way. It's the work that we avoid and we're all self employed. We love to work at nothin' all day."

Bring on the rubber ducky pjs. I've got some writin' to do.