I’m starting school on the 1st. After the loss of my third pregnancy, this was on my list for recovery. It takes quite a bit of mental recovery for me. Lose 10 more pounds and take a writing class. These things exhaust me and fill my time with purpose rather than empty tasks like cleaning the house for the millionth time.
Husband works for the railroad. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that. He is currently furloughed (temporarily laid off until work picks back up in the spring) So that cuts our budget significantly. Luckily I’m not delusional and I knew this when we started the RR journey. So I consolidated debt, started couponing more, and cut down the cable a bit. Doing these things allow us to live the same comfy life style we are accustomed to. It has also made it easier to make it through on just my paychecks by tightening the belt where we need to. Sooo, my husband decided to go back to school because as Veterans, we get paid quite a bit to continue our education. That and he is one semester away from an Associates. So I jumped on it too. After all, I said I wanted to take a writing class. So we signed up thru Phoenix U and I somehow got pulled into an entire semester of college. Now I have tried this numerous times and SUCK at online school. But I’m older, wiser, and more responsible than my 20’s yo self so here I am.
Who cares? Most normal people have a degree.
Well, I was content not having one. The job I have now is fine. I like it, it has great hours, no weekends or nights. My family is not struggling to make ends meet. I don’t need to be anyone’s boss anymore and after 10 years, it’s a relief. My degree is in communications instead of healthcare. Though I’m awesome at it and have done it for so long, healthcare is not where my heart is. I have always had an artsy soul. I crochet, sing, act, paint, build, and write. I create things from nothing. I evoke emotions from my creations and THAT is where my heart is. That is why I am back blogging, too.
On a completely different subject, my birthday is in 2 weeks. I keep forgetting. My father-in-law asked what I wanted. I told him a hotel room for 1. A break from life. A QUIET place created by more than a locked bedroom door for 20 minutes once a week while my husband occupies our child with snacks and cartoons. But today, it is mindless tasks like cleaning the house for the millionth time that makes me grateful for my tiny breaks, working out, school, and even work.
Is it nap time yet?