It’s gone 11pm and I’m just not sure where the evening goes.
I’m exhausted. I’ve been working all day, came home and cleaned the kitchen and caught up on emails and social networking. Thankfully Boyfriend cooked the tea and then I stared into my laptop screen for an hour or so… my brain is pretending I was Christmas shopping, but in reality that was my down time. That was me ‘relaxing’.
Now I’m just finishing packing some orders and moving on to my most hated task.. online postage. Ugh, tedious.
I’ll probably be done around midnight, make a last cup of tea and head off to bed, checking my emails one last time before sleep at around 1am. Morning rolls around and it’s back at work.
I work (almost) full time as well as running my indie business. I used to be quite a lazy person, but oddly since being affected by Anemia and being tired all the time I’ve started to work really hard. I want to make it. (I SO relate to this post by the Wonder Forest.)
I don’t want to be a millionaire, per se, but I have big dreams.. a big, old house in the outskirts of Leeds plus an apartment in London and a crash pad or town house in Manhattan. I want to help mum out like she’s helped me. I want to support my boyfriend to follow his dreams as a musician. I want to donate to charities… so. many. charities. I want to build my indie business into an empire and create hundreds of jobs where people can bring their dogs into the pet creche. Oh yeah, I want to have dogs. Lots and lots of dogs.
But tonight I am so exhausted I could cry. On worse days the tears well up in my eyes and I wonder why I’m working SO hard. Sure, I’m fairly successful with my handmade jewellery collection – it’s not like the days when I would hang off the coat tails of one sale every 3 months – and I love it sososo much. I just wonder if it’s all worth it.
I know it is, though. Because without this what would I have? What would get me out of bed every morning? What would I spend my whole life chasing? What would make my heart swell? I think my dad wonders when I’m going to grow up and get a real job and I tell him, “I’m only 25, let me have my dreams while I don’t have a mortgage or kids.” But really I know I’m going to make it some day… or die trying.
Sure I think about quitting. Doesn’t mean I’m going to.
Loves x xx