pass the Xanax & fire up the laptop

Well, after the big swift karmic kick in the britches that is writers block (probably retribution for deleting all previous blog posts), I'm ready to roll again. What? You don't think non-writers can get writer's block? Sure we can! It's just like the time the doctor told my husband he had "tennis elbow" from bowling.

I haven't had much direction in my life as of late, and while I needed a break worse than Jessica Simpson needs a new hit song, its time to get back on track.

Several weeks ago I (finally!) quit my job at the fish factory where I worked as a distributor coordinator. Just another stupid name for customer service. Customer service for evil seafood brokers who think they are the mafia, thats is. My lovely position took care of the entire Eastern seaboard where all the seafood biz folk are SO intense! I might be an East Coaster now, but I'm a California girl born & raised, so all that uptighty-ness was extremely hard for me to wrap my head around & caused a great deal of grief. (This is in no way intended to offend anyone who lives on the East Coast - just the big meanies in the industry.)

Quitting, even in this harsh economic climate, was totally the best thing. And having my husbands support in doing so, totally the best thing EVER - because life without that paycheck is NOT easy and I don't think I could have just quit willy-nilly without his blessing. Or, more to the point, be able to say "but you agreed!" if ever he threw it in my face. Which he has never given me any reason to believe he would, but these are the things my insecure blob of a brain started to think. You try getting yelled at by people you don't know, on the phone and in emails, for things you can't control - like the fishing limitations on North Atlantic Cod off the coast of Iceland - and see if you don't get a case of the crazies too.

Anyways, so I've been in a weird fog for awhile - re-learning life as a housewife & stay at home mom. I cannot beeeleeeve the things I failed to do while working! You should see my stairwell walls. How did I not see the filth & muck of 3 growing boys handprints & scuffs building up on the poor, innnocent, white paint? Ew.

But I suppose its relative to the state of mind that I was in for over a year.

My husband, however, is of the mind that I quit that horrible job from H-E-double hockey sticks and so I should now officially be "over it". Ha! Getting over the B.S. of the job and letting go of the crapola that ensued once I gave my notice was easy peasy lemon squeezy, but getting over the fact that I let that it all consume me so much that I lost sight of all that is important - FAMILY TIME, HOME, FRIENDS - thats the hard pill to swallow. I keep going over it & over it in my mind - at what point did I stop functioning as a human and turn into the robot who just went thru the motions? Scary. I don't ever want to become that person again.