I can’t believe how long it’s been since I wrote, but life has taken a turn that I knew was coming and was wholly ready to take, but it’s meant that I have all but given up any attempts at recreational activities that extend beyond Curious George and pumping milk.
Obligatory pic of my adorable son.
I’ve always been more of a creative type, so part of my reason for starting this blog was just to get myself to a place where I was writing, not expecting anyone to read it, just get it out there. I missed the boat with my life’s career choices. I have an MBA, and it was the biggest mistake of my life, personally and financially, but that’s a different story.
I’m at a point where I have a family, a mortgage and a lifestyle (VERY modest, but it’s there) to support, and with my husband being a teacher, I have no real options to pursue an artistic chute unless it’s in drips and drabs in my free time, which has been non-existent since the birth of my son.
My son had obviously been feeling my creative yearning and has thus decided to not sleep, so he could support my writing sessions.
Luckily he is only like this during the hours of 8pm to 6am. F*ck sleep, amirite?
Husband is tucked away in bed, blowing his stank breath in the direction of my empty pillow. Baby is in walker contraption that keeps him contained for about 15 minutes (of heaven) at a time, and I have my computer on the dirty kitchen counter, between a tub of margarine and bag of rye bread.
It’s easy as a child to hear “follow your dreams” because your dreams far outweigh the reality of bills, adulthood and responsibility. What did you want to be as a child? Princess Astronaut Veterinarian? Obviously a wise choice as the field of princess is expected to grow over the next 25 years and one does need to specialize (that’s where the astronaut vet comes into play).
“I only use the services of the finest princess astronaut vet to express my anal glands.”
Did I expect to be a database manager slash admin assistant? No. Is there any shame in what I do? No, I’m totally proud of the job I do, even though I can feel the seering disappointment in my CEO’s gaze as he reminds me, yet again, that I have an MBA. He says this in one breath and then asks me to scan a copy of the UVM hockey schedule and email it to him in the next breath. I just want a paycheck that supports my personal life and allows me to explore my interests, which I don’t think is a bad thing. It boils down to what you want to be defined by. My co-workers do an amazing job and work their asses off, dealing with the complexities of an international NGO with minimal (and I mean minimal) staff. They are their jobs and they are amazing at it. I am amazing at spending my paycheck, speedily.
So, here I am writing in my kitchen with a beautiful view of the sunrise in a lovely house supported by my sometimes fulfilling job that I wasn’t really made for, but you know what? I love my life. Except for husband’s morning breath.
Chase Your Tail 