So. Lately I’ve been mildly torturing myself about what to ‘do’. Yes, I can’t seem to shake the feeling off – I need something else reasonably professional to ‘do’, aside from ooh, let’s see, care for two kids, work part-time, cook, clean and do all those other little jobs that the role of “working mother” entails.
I really do wonder about myself sometimes.
Anyhow. Last night Mr.42 and I had a date night in. Over our candlelit dinner of Thai and Indian takeaway and a bottle of chardy, I launched into emotional download mode about my (rather first-world) personal dilemma. Mr.42 listened quietly and then, as men do, went into solution mode in an attempt to assist me. “You love doing up old furniture…why don’t you restore antique furniture…do a wood working course?” “What about your cooking…sell your baked goods?”
Oh how the ideas flowed. God knows I’m not short of ideas! By the end of our discussion, unfortunately I felt more disheartened than I had to begin with. I decided to change the topic, so we moved onto indulging in our mutual dreams: the big home renovation; and spending three months in Provence. Much better.
Later, I finally fell asleep well past midnight, as my mind was still ticking over.
This morning though, despite only getting about 5 hours sleep, I had a sense of clarity. I realised – DUH – that what I really love to do, what I’ve always loved to do, has been in front me the whole entire time.
Which was the reason I started this blog. A place to record life events and thoughts, yes, but importantly, a place to write.
So I’m going to explore this writing bug I seem to have. Despite having a break from blogging, I can’t seem to shake it. Finally, it’s staring me in the face…glaring at me, really. A lightbulb up top seems to have been switched on.
It’s nice when that happens.
And I feel excited!