Have you ever been in that place where you feel compelled to add something to your current routine or way of life, and then that “something” starts to take over? That’s what happened to me.
My landlord and utility company were the impetus for this momentous decision. In spite of my kicking and screaming, they pushed me to seek a more stable source of income. They said, “Writing is fine, but you need to pay your bills. Someday, you will make a decent living with your writing,” (LOL! That was me, but they would have said it if they had known how much I want it), “but, meanwhile, you need to do something else.” So, I did.
Truth be told, I’m just not into the whole ‘starving artist’ gig. Been there, done that, got the skinny jeans rolled up in the back of my closet to prove it. Over the years I have moved on, and I have grown accustomed to living a certain lifestyle – heat in the winter, food in the pantry – you know – the basics.
I never planned to return to the practice of hands-on patient care, my plans were quite the opposite. But, I feel as though I am supposed to be here at this point in time, with this patient, – no matter how reluctantly I arrived. And, she keeps me pretty busy.
For the past several months I have struggled with how to adjust my time, and my energy, mostly my energy, to fit this “something” into the life and schedule I had worked so long to develop. The one that included spending time with my family, regular workouts, and devoting hours and hours to writing stories and making stuff. The fun things that I really enjoyed and didn’t want to give up. It was tough. Being responsible for the care and welfare of another living being is a really big deal, and one I don’t dare approach half-heartedly. It has taken time, and determination, to find a working balance so that I can get back to the other “somethings” I love. Actually, I’m still working on the balance, and on figuring out how to unravel the chaos that is my life at the moment. But, I am HERE.