My brain is empty of thought. I have no words. I am not sure why this has happened but I think it’s something to do with being over-taxed. Or taxed at all, I should imagine. There are a thousand things I could write about this week, and indeed a fair few I should write about, but I can’t seem to find the right angle.
And then it occurs to me: Could it be, that for the first time in a fairly long while, I am actually busy and stimulated and…OMG…happy???
There may be some evidence to suggest this is the case:
1. My son has ceased to pee on the floor and has used the toilet without fail for the past 4 days. This is of course his achievement and not mine – but I also feel that finally I might have got something right and his success is testament to my amazing parenting skills and tireless patience rather than his sole ability to transform from baby to boy in just under two weeks because he was ‘ready’. Hence on Friday, while he is presented with the electric piano that he has coveted in ELC for the past three months, I shall be rewarding myself with an hour in a darkened room being pummelled with essential oils, because hell, I earned it.
2. I am busy. Really busy. And not just with boring house ‘to dos’ but actual projects that are fun and engaging and sociable. And man, that feels good. Of course I also have the boring stuff to do but it doesn’t seem so bad when the rest of the time is filled in with things I actually want to be involved in. My husband is being incredibly supportive about me keep zipping off here and there and I am wondering quite a lot why I moped around for so long doing nothing. I tend to think it’s just my time now, to start to spread my wings again, and I can only say how lucky I feel, that I have the support to be able to do that.
3. On that particular subject, I was offered a place on a Master’s degree course to study professional writing this week and I am completely and utterly thrilled about it.
This last point is, of course, me blowing my own trumpet that I am actually good enough at spouting crap for someone to think I could eventually do it for a living. It came as rather a surprise to me but I’m not arguing with their decision. Panicking slightly, but not arguing. As any of my blog followers who have read my earlier posts will know, I have struggled for a long time to find something meaningful to do, to have something to aim for that (hopefully) has income attached to it whilst still being able to enjoy the benefits of being a stay at home mum and cope with the business of Trailing. It is somewhat ironic that I have ended up a writer, having started writing in part to figure out my place in this world. But it feels like the right thing for me, for the future, and I can’t wait to see where it takes me.
So it would appear I have finally found the answer to my career conundrum, got myself a hobby that I love, and have less child-related stress than I have done in months. The only problem is if I stay this happy about it I’ll have absolutely nothing left to write about and if I stay this busy I’ll have no time to write it either.
Dammit. Boredom, loneliness and misery, where art thou?