February 3, 2010

My Day: Uncrafted

I've got some goals that I'd like to meet this year, and blogging about them may be just the commitment I need for them happen. 

To stay accountable. 

To have to answer to someone :ahem: myself. 

But I'm not quite ready for that yet, primarily because it scares the crap out of me, so I'll start small. Small, as in what my typical day is like now. My typical, recently unemployed, trying to figure out a new routine after working full time for the last 20 years, day.

I'm the girl that programs the coffee machine to automatically brew at 6:30 a.m. to coerce me out of bed.

This gives me a few minutes to see my husband before he leaves for work, as well as a good deal of alone time before my son wakes up. 

This is the time I use wash up any dirty dishes (I'm a "clean as you go" kinda gal), tune in to Google Reader to catch up on my daily blog subscriptions, email, other social media, and Etsy sales (BAH haha!). One day [soon] I'll be managing my Etsy sales again during this early morning quiet time, but I'm still replenishing my stock and getting my shop back in order since taking time off for my son Milo (my first and only, born September 2008). 

Coffee time has become my favorite part of the day, only to be outdone by the constant amazements of the little guy. The first half of my day is spent with Milo. We eat, play, dance, snack, then sleep. Well, he sleeps, not me. During his morning nap I usually shower, do household chores, then recheck my email, Etsy, and Twitter while I'm eating my lunch. 

Yes, busy! 

If you ever popped over for a visit during this time, you may catch a glimpse of my invisible jet. After Milo wakes up again, we repeat our earlier routine unless there are errands to run. During Milo's afternoon nap, I usually work on a project. This doesn't mean just "part" of a project. 

I'm in for the long haul. 

The big shabang. 

The project from beginning to end. 

Prep, sew, finish, photograph, and post. The anxiety of hoping for a long nap time spurs on burts of creative energy that leaves me feeling both satisfied and drained.

I dread cooking, or anything else having to do with the kitchen. But alas, dinnertime always comes. 

It's a god-given necessity. 

An inevitability. 

A hated, terrible, make me whine like a baby about it chore that I...okay, I'm done...sorry. 

Let me just reiterate that I said "dread", just so you and I are on the same page here. 

I usually don't think about dinner until late afternoon when it's absolutely imperative to make a decision of what needs the least amount of time to thaw and what will take the least amount of dishes. Unless there's something I'm craving, then I'm all over it like a hobo on a ham sandwich. 

Ordinarily though, you'll eat a lot of spaghetti, taco's, chicken with rice, and frozen pizza's at my place. Unless Seth cooks, then you'll have a big yummy, interesting dinner. After Seth comes home, dinner has been eaten, Milo has been played with and put to bed, I sometimes decombust with a dose of Wheel of Fortune and a good list. 

Did I mention that I'm a list maker. Lists in my head, on paper, on post-it's, on the computer, and lists on top of other lists. Lists everywhere. I'm pretty good at sticking to a daily task list, but if I plan too far out I get overwhelmed and don't do any of it...which is why I have so many lists. 

This disorganized method keeps me pretty organized. Or at least as organized as I can be. After that final list is out of my head, I'm ready for bed.
End transmission, press Play to repeat.