I'm back!

Oh my darling bloggy type fans..... I have missed you! *air kisses*

I have been sitting in front of the (finally materialised) new fancy schmancy netbook which is my latest love, since lunchtime yesterday... and I still don't know where to start... considering I assumed (stupid me) that I was only going to have a short break while waiting on delivery of my new computer..... 10 weeks later...... and I've lost the thread of anything I was trying to say when I started blogging a few months ago.

Right now I'm sitting at my local op shop shop where it is ICY COLD despite running the heaters flat out since I arrived. And where I have seen one person in one hour, and she was waiting for the other op shop to open. *yawn*

Why am I here? Let me explain.....

You may remember me ranting (for quite a while probably, there may have been spit involved) about the fact that I couldn't get a job. That I felt unequal in my relationship, taken for granted as in "mum will do it so why should I", and that I was going completely and utterly batty being within the four walls of my house each and every day, which was why I could be regularly found at my friend's houses participating in extreme coffee drinking and gossiping whilst declaring it "Housework Avoidance Day".

Well I decided I couldn't continue this way and decided to put my self taught sewing talents to good use by (after much debate) starting up a handmade home business. Visit a few markets, sew in my spare time, doing something I loved and making myself feel better about my enforced SAHM situation.

So I've spent the last few months sewing up a storm and preparing for the beginning of the market season. I am supposed to be heading off in a WEEK and I am nowhere near ready....( I will be taking No-Doz and living off double shot espressos for a few days so best to stay out of my way!)

It's taken a fair amount of time and in the meantime I was still looking for some part time work to give us a steady income, simply so that we had something that could loosely be termed "disposable income" at the end of the fortnight, instead of fighting off the very patient call centre workers who don't mind when I cry every time they ring.

Then I decided to make my time even more valuable.....

I had the opportunity to do something I had been passionate about for a long time but had no chance to do.... I travelled to the big city at very short notice to attend Zumba instructor training, figuring if I wanted it so bad out here in Hillbilly Hell I better get off my bum and organise it! I've been busting my butt in my loungeroom ever since, trying to be prepared for an hour of making other people happy and fit while not falling over and dying myself.....

But there's been a bit of a hitch in this plan...

On my four hour drive to the big city the night before my training I received a phone call from an employer I had totally forgotten I had applied to work for. You guessed it, just as I was looking at making my own way I had a job. A short term contract for a few months, but requiring quite a lot of work during those few months. It would make me busy, but was not unachievable.

YAY WORK!

I was doing the happy dance all day and night, and felt like I was on top of the world. Somebody finally wanted me for something, I would be making real money for my efforts! Christmas would get a much needed boost this year.

Hang on, is that my phone ringing??

It was, with news that the opshop I had offered to volunteer at (because I was at home doing nothing and felt like I lived on Mars due to lack of human contact) needed me. Thankfully on a day Frog attends daycare so I was happy to slot it into my diary.

And then the phone rang again.

Yeah, you guessed it. I got a job. Another one. Excited jumping up and down and then the realisation hit.... my diary only has so many spaces..... and I think most of them are already full.

Cue the insane juggle that my life has been over the last two weeks.

I "change jobs" at least twice a day. At 3pm when I close the op shop for the day, I will be doing a light speed dash to the supermarket to provide something for WonderMan to cook for dinner, and pick up coffee for me so that I don't fall asleep during the 4 1/2 hours of ballet I about to go and teach. Then I will come home and sew flowers, hot glue fabric rings (and probably my fingers) and fight some errant bias binding so I'm somewhat organised for next week's market. And in between I may gulp some dinner while completing my home study exercise for my contract and ironing my clothes for work tomorrow.

WonderMan doesn't know what has hit him (and doesn't know how close he came to being fatally hit after the week I have just endured, of which I will spill details when I can get them into some sort of order in my scrambled up head). He is being sat down twice a week and ordered to "synchronise his diary" so I have some assurance he won't forget the kids when he comes home from work a full two hours before I do.

I feel like I'm insane.... but at the same time I finally feel alive for the first time since I gave up work to move away with WonderMan. My brain is switching back on, and even though it's a struggle to work out how to greet a customer without my default setting of toddler speak, I am loving every single minute of the craziness.

And I think I may actually be slightly fit, due to my determined Zumba wiggling and insisitence that I will be ready to start teaching very soon. Maybe I won't be needing those spanx pants so often from now on......