When I started this gig of being self described as a means of becoming self sufficient I knew there would be changes. Of course there would. I wasn't going to get up at 6:30am in a mad dash to be on a commute by 7:00am. I wasn't going to return home ten hours later in an angered exhaustion. Freeing myself from The Man meant I was going to be in charge of my schedule or lack thereof, and I must admit the latter frightened me a bit. What was I going to do if nobody was telling me what to do? In my continuing search for the answer to that question I have found a few surprises of which I will list since I'm sure you're all, Dude, I wonder what's been going on with her? The anticipation has been killing you, I'm certain.
Here we go.
1. Bathing. I am only a month into this venture so I don't really know where I am truly headed on the hygiene scale of clean to people keeping a wide circle but amazingly I have maintained a daily bathing schedule. Actually this surprises me. I would have bet you that daily bathing would have been one of the first things to go in some type of water conservation stand as an excuse and laziness as it's origin. But no. I love a good long bath now more than ever and strangely enough it has become a welcome break from worrying if I am doing enough 'cause I think now is bath time, stop worrying about all that other stuff and take a damn bath. Anybody know if they still make Mr. Bubbles?
2. Time. Dear Me, You just went from a nine hour workday to a twenty-four workday but you're getting paid a whole lot less. Congratulations! I knew this one was coming, and I am still trying to deal with it mostly by constantly telling myself to chill which typically translates into people thinking I'm not worried enough since I overcompensate by looking and talking like I'm winning the Pulitzer tomorrow. In reality if I am not writing or taking pictures or scheduling or networking or doing whatever I don't even know to be doing then I am worrying that I might spontaneously combust into absolute poverty. Even typing that makes me cringe. Work or die, work or die, work or die and on and on until I tell myself to chill and unload the dishwasher. This conversation accompanied by some mundane task happens about every three hours.
3. Cooking. Slicing, dicing, peeling, grating, mincing, give me the food. I'll do it. I love the sizzle when a hot olive oil collides with a slab of murder. Aromas from the preparation of a meal are so much better than any scented candle I could buy. Cooking is creative math and making a meal makes me feel wealthy especially since it has already saved me funds. There is no more eating out.
4. People. I miss you, fellow humans. I think the woman at the post office almost had me removed yesterday because I wanted to hug her for simply talking to me. Sure, I have one hell of an unmedicated social anxiety disorder but it is countered by a love of other people's stories. Just to hear and watch as someone's mouth moves and the sound comes out and they're looking at me and oh shit they're talking to me and please do it more. Let's face it, Billy Sue has to nap every once in a while and Slater is studying for finals. It would only make sense that I called a friend the other day to let him know I had met a volleyball named Wilson.
Yes, I still wonder if my smile is the definition of insanity because even past the worrying and missing people there is something inside me that is certain I am on the right path and I can't put my finger on it, I can't tell you what it is but if you called up and asked me right now, Shea, how do you feel? I would smile and say, I feel better than I have in a long time.
So yes, I am still grateful.