I don't take holidays much (as in lying on beaches), but I do travel (as in backpacking in China). Or I used to. Before Kids, until I swapped freedom for no sleep and borderline mental illness. Yay parenting.
So, on Thursday I'm getting back to my adventuresome roots, and hitting the road - heading south to Tumut, then off to the West Wyalong to spend two days at a Campdraft, then back to Canberra to catch up with wonderful friends and home to Sydney on Monday afternoon.
I'm hoping to blog by posting from my phone. BUT, am going waaaay off the beaten track, where phone and computer dongle are not relevant, so shall do my best. Stay tuned.
So boots. Just a pair of $80 Baxters. Nothing spesh.
So the boots, which can be used for riding, like the travel to new places, are skerricks of my old life which, now the kids are getting older, are suddenly becoming do-able again. I feel like I'm getting back a little bit of me, a bit I didn't realised I'd missed so much.
Its been a turbulent few weeks here at Chez Nicholas. Visitors and end of term insanity added to the massive strain hubs and I were under due to insecurity about his job.
When I left work in March last year, I swore I would not go back. I had tried to do it all, and be it all, and hit the wall with such force that I'm still recovering. Actually, my story will be in a book, coming out at the end of October called Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me. But more on that then!
With hub's work issues, it became clear that if we were going to keep this little boat afloat I'd have to get myself back into paid employment. So, I grabbed the paper, open the page and my eye fell on a teeny weeny ad, for a PA, local, part time. Actually perfect.
"Ah Cr*p," I said (well actually I said F*ck, loudly).
I knew I could not ignore the ad. I did not want to return to work. I was terrified I'd end up like before. I love my life at home. I love the peace and rhythm of my life. I love spending my days in the garden or writing or both.
But I'm also a realist. Floating about, homemaking, is not much use when there is no home to make.
So I applied for the job.
My application was received with delight and enthusiasm, to and fro of emails, phone calls and good chats. Well, I've got 18 years experience as a PA, and as the Other Party said, 'your cv just goes on and on.' Well, yes. Rather like this blog post.
My heart got heavier and heavier. Things were not looking good for hubs. Visitors meant we had no time to talk, the bickering suddenly escalated to rowing, and fights were blossoming from nowhere. I was in agony over the job, every part of me was howling that I couldn't bear to re-enter the workforce, whilst the rest of me was howling equally noisily that I didn't have much choice.
Things wound tighter and tighter until, on Thursday, hubs was called in to a meeting at 4.30pm.
We watched the clock all day, and as it hit 4.30, the phone here rang.
I did not want to go back to work.
At 4.38pm I was offered a job. But not the job I'd been expecting. Not a PA role, but a role tailor made for me, using my particular skills in a way that frankly, I'd do for free (its to do with databases, and databases make me faint with excitement). Its casual, flexible and local. Yup its adding another dimension to life and some things here will have to give, like the garden and the breadmaking. But just for now. Its okay. Its good. Its bloody brilliant. Its a lifeline chucked into my abyss of despair (oh WHAT, I write romance ffs, also am weary).
I still cannot believe that this is how it happened.
And hubs? At 4.38pm he was getting good news too. Great awesome news that makes me all teary with pride. Nothing in writing as yet, so can't go into details (and frankly, they're a bit meh for anyone but us). But things are looking good. We're daring to hope the future is secure, that Things are going to be okay.
Now. Sense of Humour, where did you go?