The acid test for how motivated I am feeling seems inextricably linked to whether I can be bothered to sort out my house. I wake most mornings now - with my new found freedom - and this thought goes through my head: get something done. All the possibilities of the day stretch ahead and all the best intentions are there. My days used to be peppered with conference calls and the need to develop and plan and lobby in an unforgiving corporate environment, now it's about what I can get done on the home front. That, and dog walks and school pick ups.
A seasoned stay at home mother once said to me: '...there are only so many times you can clean your own house.' and I am starting to understand what she meant. It used to be that there were fewer days in which to regain control over the siege of post and laundry and unmade beds. Now there is time, but, I realise this means repetition and the dark spectre of the mundane! One should find joy in the little things in life, but when you've folded socks and wiped down surfaces for the ga-billionth time, it gets dull. So I subscribe to the view that the house can get messy. All work and no play makes Lou a dull girl.
Meanwhile the cook fest continues - nightly my daughter texts me from the way home from school asking tentatively 'what is for dinner?' Her reply when I told her last night was 'Oh God'...I texted back saying I thought she meant 'Oh GOOD'!! I made this version of Pad Thai; get me. It rocked. My kitchen looked like the crazy chefs from 'The Muppets' had come to stay (see above on messy houses). I sometimes wonder whether it's fair to subject my family to these culinary experiments, should I play safe? But then I figure if they are hungry enough, they'll eat it. And if they don't; there's always cereal before bed. For the record, they did eat it.
On the daily dressing front, I am in a re-visit of my 90's wardrobe. Without me intending it, I have found myself reaching for buttoned shirts and boyish boots, even my husband pointed out this morning that I dressed like this 20 years ago. Funny! All I need now is for Nirvana to play on the radio and to watch re-runs of 'My So Called Life'. I quite like that I look the same but older. I was a gangly, unsure girl in the 90's; I am no longer that girl.
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I go from once a week posts to once a day. Wooooahhhh. I get this occasionally, where I have stuff to say and it's therapy to get it captured. I sense I am also processing some life stuff (as my husband would say: no shit, Sherlock) and so you are the first to hear it. Hope you don't mind ;-)
