The start of something new
Being back at work after our vacation has kind of overwhelmed me. Overwhelmed and depressed at the same time. And made me want to die of boredom.
But I’m feeling happier today. Because, you see, I have a secret.
No, not that kind of secret (yet).
I have ventured out of my 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (OK, 8 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.) comfort zone, and have begun dabbling.
Yes, dabbling. I have dipped a toe back into the freelance waters, and … well, the water’s the perfect temperature.
I went along for a couple of weeks, doing one extra gig. But suddenly other opportunities are popping up like toadstools — except, not slimey like toadstools.
I met with someone yesterday about the possibility of doing some super-creative freelance work — something that I love to do, and has only ever been a hobby before.
Part of me is worried about putting too much on my plate. But another — stronger — part of me is screaming to go for it, because the freelance gigs are for things I actually enjoy doing. And eventually (*fingers crossed*) these fun freelance gigs might turn into a truly creative career.
Darling Husband is ecstatic for me, because is a a big dreamer. Buying a lottery ticket, for him, is cause for an afternoon’s worth of dreaming and plotting where every dollar would go. He wants me to have a career that I really, really love — like he loves Job B.
I can’t match his level of enthusiasm just yet. I am partly excited, and partly guilty about going behind my company’s back to do other work.
For now, I’m just going to keep treading cautiously — finding a balance between my “real” job and my “fun” freelancing. And I’m just going to see where it leads me …
The thing about compromising …
Meet Grace.
OK, her name (probably) isn’t Grace. She’s a random kid I found through Google. But doesn’t she look like a Grace? Sometimes I shuffle through photos of random babies and kids I don’t know, trying to see which look like ours might. And this cutie has my big head, brown hair and pout.
If it were up to me alone, at this very minute, our (yet unborn) children would be named Grace and Jack — damn, just saw the Will & Grace connection. Oops. Or Jack and Rose … damn, Titanic! Anyway, you get the idea.
If it were up to Darling Husband alone, our kids would be named Melissa and Nicholas.
He is suggesting “issa” names (Melissa, Alyssa), while I favour one-syllable names (Jack, Grace, Max). I am picking all classic, simple names, where he … well, I’m not sure what his “system” is. I think he just picks random ones he likes — usually with “issa” in them.
While I like the idea of our kids having old-fashioned, storybook-y names — “Aurora’s down at the creek.” “Timothy went to fetch some firewood” — Darling Husband vetoes anything that isn’t mainstream. He especially hated Henry, which was a disappointment to me and my Time Traveler’s Wife-loving friends.
Because we’ll be in this together, we need to find names we agree on. And that is easier said than done …
* His favourites
** My favourites
*** Mutual favourites
BOYS
- Andrew
- Benjamin
Emmett(Darling Husband hates it)Harley(Darling Husband hates it)Henry(The girls love it, but Darling Husband hates it)- Jack**
- Luke
- Matthew
- Max**
- Nicholas*
Oliver(Darling Husband hates it)- Peter
- Timothy
- William**
GIRLS
- Alice**
- Alyssa* (new add, by Darling Husband)
- Aurora
- Charlotte
- Claire
- Ella
- Emma
- Grace**
- Hannah (everyone hates it, but I’m still holding out)
- Hailey*
- Hilary/Hillary
Melissa* (new add, by Darling Husband, which I vetoed by striking it out because it’s MY blog, haha)- Molly
- Rosalie/Rose**
Um, notice that there is not a single name that we both love? Good thing we’ve still got lots of time.
I’m high on recipes
In case you couldn’t already tell …
I have a little addiction to making recipes from my new fave book …
I have never really been much of a “recipe” girl — usually just a “follow-the-package-directions” girl. So this is pretty new and exciting.
At first, Darling Husband was a bit skeptical about eating so-called “pregnancy food,” but it’s all just really healthy stuff.
And hey, he knows that it certainly beats KD.
Not Me Mondays
Over the course of my five-day-long vacay …
- I did not eat french fries approximately 9,000,000 times
- I was perfectly pleasant to Darling Husband on the very early morning flights
- I drank plenty of water, instead of drowning in a sea of Diet Coke
- I did not see my life flash before my eyes while performing an adventure sport
- I wore cute little shoes and outfits, rather than just slumming it in beat-up sandals and muddy jeans
- I did not proclaim, rather snootily, that I would rather pee in my drysuit than use the Port-O-Potty
Oh, and last night — before my return to work — I did not gulp down NyQuil just to help me beat the jet-lag blues. Never.
Yes, we’re back … back again
Hello, bloggie friends!
Darling Husband and I are back from our vacay. We had a great trip in the dazzling U.S. of A., ate at an amazing roadside diner, went to Carls Jr. (ahem, twice), and took tons of photos and video.
As much as we heart America — because we are total U.S.A. groupies — we are happy to be home in a place where …
- People have heard of our province. And like, our city and stuff.
- People don’t look at us blankly when we try to explain where we live. You know, like in relation to a State, or an ocean.
- We can use debit cards. Is this because we are Canadian, or does the U.S. just not like accepting debit cards? I’m intrigued.
Debit card fiascos aside, we really did have a wonderful time. The whole time we were away, I felt so relaxed. We had to keep our Blackberries turned off — as not to acrue insane roaming charges — and didn’t bring watches, so the days kind of melted together. I checked my e-mail only once (rather than 19,000,000 times per day). We did fun things together. We saw the sights.
I got to spend real, quality time with Darling Husband, rather than random snatches of time in between shifts.
And then … we came home.
I don’t know if it’s the time-change or the exhaustion or what, but I have been feeling very “off” ever since. The idea of going back to work tomorrow makes me feel … anxious. There is laundry everywhere. I am too tired to do the dishes.
The stress is boiling up inside of me. This is nothing new, but I’m noticing it because I was relaxed for five whole days. Just hours after we got home, I recognized the familiar feeling. I can’t believe I feel like this all the time. It’s horrible.
I think this “post-vacay crash” is probably not uncommon. But whatever it is, it’s making me re-evaluate everything. A few weeks ago, I said I was committed to not let stress affect me as much, and now I’m going one step further.
I am going to start enjoying myself more. I’m going to paint more. I’m going to focus more on my writing. I’m going to take Little Dog down to the lake more. I’m going to start doing more of whatever I feel like doing.
I may not be able to control my job — or its level of stress — but I’m going to start making the most out of my time. And hopefully, I can get a little bit of that “vacation feeling” back.
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Heather's Handmade Life 