We are getting our first house. Our own personal space after celebrating our 1st wedding anniversary last week. Money will be tight, and the house will be empty, but we will have each other on a completely different level. And I get the chance to prove that I can run my business...I haven't felt that I could work/deal with it for a long time now. I will have my own room dedicated to making jewelry, accessories, cards, collage, and etc. I can paint the walls green! Johnny Depp can keep me company.
I have a lot of faith that moving will change everything. I will go from just getting through the day to doing laundry, cooking for 2, and cleaning as well as maintaining and building a business. We will be, liek, adults now. Who would've thought (thunk)?
Will I ever get back to writing? Will this move inspire the long dwindling spark? Only time can tell, and dammit I want it now. We looked at another house. It was on the lake with a private dock and a little fire pit. I imagined myself laying on the dock at night with a fire burning and just writing. Now I can picture myself typing on the bare carpet of the new living room...or maybe even on the steps in the garage. I will find my designated spot.
