In the field of opportunity, it’s plowing time again.

The opportunity that will make or break me landed on my door step last week. Well, actually it landed last year around August, but for some reason I was still afraid to fly so I didn’t take it. It’s a good thing the person offering me this opportunity is familiar with my talents and skills and was willing to offer it to me again! This time –if I can pull myself together- it will be my salvation.

I have been offered –and accepted- the opportunity to work as junior creative talent for a group that does design work for big corporations. Assuming that all goes well on Monday I’ll be a contracted freelancer (I think that’s the correct terminology….don’t hate, I’ve never done this before!) working from home. It pays well enough that even if I only get ten hours of work a week, I’ll be able to squeak by paying the minimums on my monthly bills. If I do well and I start getting, say, 20? Life will get really easy. Finally, if I do REALLY well, and get more than that…I can finally say good bye to debt. I have to say…that’s some damn good incentive to do well, even if I’m not taking into consideration all the other benefits of the job!

By this time next month, I could be working from home, and using the talents that I have always felt so insecure about to support myself in a legitimate career. It’s not exactly the crazy artist dream that sparked the creation of this journal/blog /thing, but it is a very good start. I’ll be working in an environment that provides me with all the support and direction I need to succeed … and I will never, ever have to interact with clients. It will also provide me with more free time than I’ve had since I was a teenager…what on Earth will I do with it all? Thinking about the freedom that is just within my grasp is utterly intoxicating!

I am going stir-crazy while I wait, that’s for sure. I can’t start until next week, and I can’t turn in my notice at my current job until I know for SURE that this will work out (so…say…two weeks from Monday?).  I want to turn in my notice tomorrow. I want to tear all my manager uniforms up, and buy clothes that actually fit me. I want to dance, and sing, and howl “hallelujah!” at the moon.  I want to paint my son’s nursery in a rainbow of colors and glory in the fact that I don’t have to scrub it off until I feel like it. I want to stay up all night and watch the sun come up tomorrow while eating ice cream and talking about the future with my husband. I want to celebrate in every way I know how, in fact!

And yet, I have to wait…and while I wait, my insecurities and neuroses creep up on me like childhood monsters, threatening to take away all my joy. Even being aware of them, they are hard to push aside. I am naturally a worrier, and one of my biggest concerns right now is that the people who recommended me for this job might have vastly overestimated my abilities, and set an expectation that I will not live up to. The only way to get past that concern is for time to pass and for me to prove myself not only to them, but also to myself. My family is convinced I will be fine, and at moments like this, when I am reveling in all the positives, I am also extremely confident that everything will work out great. I’m just….not very good at waiting. I never have been.

Good grief! Why did I let myself believe that being in the restaurant business was better than pursuing what has been the center of my universe for my entire life? I kill my soul for 50 to 60 hours a week at that diner. I come home tired and sweaty, unmotivated and grumpy, and I never have the time, money, or inclination to do anything I love. Meanwhile someone who shines like the fucking archangel Gabriel has been standing by patiently waiting for me to notice her through the doom and gloom. She wants to pay me the same amount of money to work less than half the number of hours because she needs my talent, and I’ve been so wrapped up in my own insular world that I forgot she even existed.

What the hell was I thinking?

My son seems to have picked up on the fact that I’m feeling better. He is kicking and kicking and kicking, and every movement makes me smile a little more.

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