This is either a sign that I’ve been working hard or that my room is in need of a clean. I’m yet to decide which…
Every now and then I realise just how lucky I am to be enjoying my days as much as I do. I’ll be honest: I’m poorer than I’ve ever been. But I can’t really complain because the work I’m doing is something I enjoy, and, more than that, I feel like it means something.
On top of that, because I do most of my work in the mornings and evenings, my days are slow, and usually see me pottering about the house cooking, writing, reading, researching.
Don’t get me wrong; I have regular moments of overwhelming fear or upset, when I wonder what on earth I’ve done (or how I’ll next pay rent). But when I find myself sitting down to a piece of toast and a cup of tea at four o’clock in the afternoon, or cooking myself a warm lunch, I can’t help but feel privileged to be able to live this way.
Today was one of those days. I had a productive day: I did a few loads of washing, I got my groceries done, I cleaned the bathroom, I cooked a couple of meals, I chatted to my brother on the phone for a couple of hours about life and thinking, and I did some yoga. Then it was dinner time. And now I’m doing some research for a class I’m teaching. My idea of a perfect Monday, really.
Follow your dreams, people. The obstacles along the way are well worth the struggle.
Patience has never been a virtue of mine. At the moment I’m struggling with my lack of it. I’ve (sort of) finished up at work, and one would assume that would give me lots of free time. Not so.
This week I’ve been really busy. I had a (very welcome, by the way) visit from a friend, yoga classes, a brother’s 21st present to finish making, cooking, movies, The Decemberists concert, a night at the Moonlight Cinema. My brothers and some friends were over for dinner on Thursday night, excited about the Big Day Out they were going to be sweating at the following day, then my parents came up to Sydney and I had dinner with them and my aunt, uncle and cousins before we headed off to Foster on Saturday morning for a family holiday. I’m currently lazing about drinking cider and eating cheese and biscuits, so I can hardly complain, but I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever start with the writing. And I’m getting frustrated.
See? No patience.
On a side note, I picked up this second hand dictionary the other day from some cute kids selling some things outside their house. They told me I looked like I was in high school. Bless. Small salespeople in the making, methinks!
One can never have too many dictionaries.