A man travels the world over in search of what he needs
and returns home to find it.
and returns home to find it.
I suspect there may be something wrong with me. Seriously. Don't laugh! I don't want to leave my house.
This morning I walked through the sitting room off my bedroom and paused at the floor-to-ceiling window. It was sleeting. "It will be fun to go out," I told myself enthusiastically. Hmm... yeah. I'm too smart to pull one over on myself. I put an Old Navy sweater over my flannel duck pajamas, made hot chocolate, and settled into my favorite chair.
It's now after 5 p.m. I'm still sitting here in my duck pajamas. Sure, I walked to the mailbox. And sure, I swept the floors and washed up. But for most of the day, I've sat here, working on little projects and returning emails.
Why is it that some people won't stay home, while others of us won't leave home?
You know that brick wall most of us seem to hit every few years? I think I have one cheek embedded in it. I'm at a crossroads in my career. With the price of oil rapidly declining, more companies are hesitant to drill for oil - or hire people like me to take care of the preliminary drilling things I do. My job is one of feast or famine. For the last several years, everyone in the business has been riding high. That, I suspect, might soon change. Trouble is, I've only had two real professions in my working life: reporter, and oil and gas girl. As I near 30, neither really seem to fit the person I've become. In the last several months, I think I've identified the life I want. It's a risk. It's a gamble. But it could mean happiness, freedom, and the creative free-reign I've wanted forever.
And it will involve working from home. I would adore it. Reclusive? Yes. But Emily Dickinson was a reculse. So was van Gogh. So was Martha Stewart... when she was on house arrest. So is Harper Lee. See? Cool, contributive people hide out at home all the time.
My friend Brian - one of my favorite friends ever - thinks that work is just that: work. That work is one thing, and fun is another. That the two shouldn't necessarily mix. "They don't call it a job for nothing," he says. And maybe he's right. But... but... I just can't work... I can't delve into a career long term, if it isn't anything I'm passionate about. If it isn't anything I get enjoyment from. It makes me wonder: am I expecting too much?
So I sit here, in my chair, pondering my world. Pondering my world, and sipping on hot chocolate. Well, it is good hot chocolate. Here, I'll share:
Brin's Ain't Leaving Home
1 c. milk
1 cinnamon stick
1 1/2 T. unsweetened cocoa
2 T. sugar
1/2 t. vanilla
Pour milk into heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium high heat. Add cinnamon stick. Heat until hot, but not boiling.
In the meantime, mix cocoa and sugar in mug. Add vanilla and stir until mixture resembles chocolate-looking sand. (Yum.) When milk is hot, pour into mug and stir.
Top with extra cinnamon or whipped cream or chocolate or ice cream. If you're enjoying with Ginger Snaps, as I did today, mix in a little ginger. The world is your oyster, my friend.
Gosh. I suppose that as far as blog posts go, this is probably the most boring ever. Sorry about that! Perhaps if I left my house I'd have more to say....