Really, it's just keeping me in line

Last week, I think I was starting to get a little scared. You see, it's almost the new year. January. And I said that I would contact a realtor after the first of the year. Which means over the next couple of months I will (hopefully) be making one of the largest purchases of my life. Alone. On an income from a job I don't know if I want to keep. I am grateful for it, and I have every inteention of doing the best that I can at it. I'm just not sure it's a good fit for me.

So I was feeling a little scared. And comfortable in the situation I'm in. After all, I have a nice, comfortable home, and I don't pay for anything.

Ok that part makes me feel a bit badly.

But this weekend, I am back on track. By 8:30, I was getting REALLY cranky with the talking heads. I like football, in small doses. The TV went on at 1 pm. After the Dallas game, Poo said I could change it. I thanked him and started watching a movie. then BR came over. and the TV flipped back and forth between my movie and the football game. I could have gone and watched TV in Poo's room, but I don't have enough room to spin in there. (and I don't hand out in other people's bedrooms) And I was on a spinning ROLL this weekend.

Then Clint came over. Third day in a row. Which means Poo and my little dinner turned into a bigger production. And as the beer got consumed, the conversation got louder. BR left not long after the conversation turned to work. Finally, I couldn't handle the work talk anymore. I don't want to spend my weekend talking about it. When I am off, I like to forget I have a job. It's something I have trouble doing because I have a tendency to be a workaholic. By Sunday, I start worrying about getting up on Monday. The projects I need to check on. The everything that needs to be out of my head when I am not at work so I don't get burned out. I am good at distracting myself from work thoughts. Until the beer starts pouring and the discussion starts. It's not just when Clint is here, but he does contribute.

I finally had to go to my room and shut the door. Turn on music so that their voices don't come through.

And I am reminded that I need to be out on my own. In my space. Quiet space. Doing the things I love to do without worrying if I am in someone's way, or whether I will have unexpected visitors. (Clint doesn't call, he just shows up, which I probably wouldn't mind if I liked him)

For that reminder, I also remember to be thankful. Because I believe that my frustrations this weekend are the Universe's way of telling me that I need to stay on track. I have faith that I am going in the right direction with my away-from-work life. (yes, even with Cowboy) I have faith that the right home will be available at the right price, and that the job situation will be solved. The one I have came along to get me into a situation where I could buy a home and make something of my soap. It took me in a new direction completely, but it doesn't have to be permenant. I can't just sit back and let these things happen though, that's not how the world works. This weekend was a kick in my butt to get me moving when I was tempted to stop. For that I am greatful