Was the recliner always there? No, I just moved it because patio chairs are universally uncomfortable and I want to be comfy as fuck right now.
Am I wearing storm trooper socks? Yes. They are at target in case anyone is interested.
This is heavenly.
Today is Friday and I am in South Africa with my dogs and hot husband. Well, he’s at work. In any other time and place during my adult life, I would have been working. I’m actually mildly petrified about not working. Not working leaves a whole lot of time for me to think, which means I am really good at it in the worst way possible.
You may be asking yourself, “Well, why don’t you work?” The answer, as with all things in my life, is complicated. I am taking some extended leave and going back to my other job every sixty days. Teleworking wasn’t an option and being apart from hot husband was probably going to give one of us a nervous breakdown (by one of us, I think we can all agree, I mean me). I love working, but I wasn’t happy and we are financially stable enough to afford this situation temporarily.
I am probably on the cusp of taking a two year leave of absence because hoorah, marine corps. Part of me has a sinking feeling about this, but the other part thinks that maybe it’s time for some changes. Or something different. Maybe its time to do the things I want to do. All those things I put off or didn’t do because I was focused on work.
So, I made a list and I’m going to do the things I want to do. Except go shopping because let’s face it I have a minor obsession with clothes and shoes. And stuff.
Sometimes it’s not even big stuff. It’s just putting the recliner on the patio because I can. Or insert any other thing you want to do here. Write. Photograph. Go see things. Eat good food. Have fun.
I know this is coming from a place of privilege. I know many people do not have this option. I am lucky. I also need some time to figure out who I want to be when I grow up separate from the ideas of others.
Its been a grand total of 3 days since I decided to disable the dream killing factory in my brain in a weird attempt to embrace the unknown. By current estimates, there are four lindsay’s living in my brain shouting about how their idea is the BEST IDEA that ever EXISTED in the entire 29 year history.
Whilst living through this mania, I’ve been moderately productive and pretty creative. I just have too many ideas for one body. In the spirit of sharing, here’s what I have accomplished:
1. Traversed, at a variety of speeds including being dragged forward by my two dogs, almost 15 miles out of 730 miles.
2. Still working on weebly website (this one)
3. Opened society6 shop and did some designs.
PLUG ALERT: You can check out my society six store here and get 15% off with free shipping on the entire society six site (not just my store).
Store name: Organized Dysfunction
RESUMING REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING
I have more ideas I am writing down so I don’t lose them and just when I think I’m on to something BAM another idea or path or option. This is why I can never decide what to buy people for gifts. With my magical mental chainsaw, I would just kill the idea with self doubt and critical logic. However, my MMC (see what I did there) serves a purpose of keeping me from falling off the deep end of the idea abyss.
I guess my point is, I need to turn my MMC into a magical mental masseuse. The alliteration. Kills me. No, really. I need to massage my ideas. Sounds
These numbers sum up my life right now. I must say, they are rather pleasant to ruminate on.
My general goal last year (and probably the year before but sometimes these things take longer to accomplish) was to stop letting the gut-wrenching fear of failure run my life.
Sidenote: I think I just realized what gut-wrenching really means. Or is it gut wrecking? More on that later.
I think I can safely estimate that I have at least a 72% success rate in the battle with my irrational fears. I won’t say a hundred, because let’s be honest. I still hide from social events with my dogs and even if I go “hang out” my irrational distraction with awkward silences is often my wingman at the party unless I am drinking my face off then I am just a peach gin fizz (is that a thing?).
However, there’s alot less fear sweating and emergency bathroom breaks these days. Which, I feel like more people should talk about. Why is fear sweating so much more uncomfortable than regular sweating? And, why can do I go from regular bladder control to insane bodily functions when I panic. I should look that up.
Note: Look up fight or flight responses. Because science.
Thus my ephiphany – gut wrenching. Get it? No? Ok.
Any who, my onward goal is to stop killing my ideas with my own mental chainsaw. Don’t worry, I am sure you have that awesome voice in your head too.
The reason behind my goal is vaguely simple-ish. I am getting no-joke hitched to another human (like legally not in a weird horror film way) in 130 days. I have no idea what is going to happen after the big day. I am not going to lie – its hella scary for reasons I can’t explain. So, I am here, dear internet, to build a something.
So, let’s do this.