What is success? I think it is…knowing that it is not enough, that you have got to have hard work and a certain sense of purpose.

Margaret Thatcher

Yesterday was a successful day. The sun was out, the air was crisp and blue, and I had work to do. I read other women’s posts, the ones they write at the end of an exhausting, whirlwind day filled to overflowing with errands, tasks, and responsibilities. They are dog tired and squeeze out a precious minute or two to jot a few lines before falling into bed; mostly to say they would sell their right arm for a little quiet time. And I wish I could tell them, make them understand: You don’t know how lucky you are.

I would give anything to have that, right now. I am a naturally high-energy person; running my butt off is what I do best. Unfortunately, I am also naturally melancholy…bordering on depressive. An odd combination. And it has been difficult. Imagine physically needing to be busy, to be occupied, keeping three or four balls in the air at one time, but at the same time, being depressed to the point of not really being able to move. It’s like wading through crude oil; desperate to go forward (or anywhere at all…) but you can’t move your feet. And you have some kind of itching powder just under your skin that you can’t get rid of. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but it IS how it feels.

After the rush and bustle of the holidays, I had the entire month of January “off.” I can hear people out there saying, “A month off? What I wouldn’t give for that!” What I wouldn’t have given to have had work during that month! Without something to force the wheels to turn, to make me get out of bed in the morning, I ground to a standstill. I couldn’t do anything. I’d start little projects, lose interest almost immediately, and then wander on to the next thing. I am completely unmotivated to do things just because I want to. I need to have to. There needs to be some accountability, some deadline, some “this needs to be done and only I can do it” attached to a task, or I just don’t follow through. That’s why the whole “job” thing was such a see-saw life for me, all those years I was out there in the workaday world. My personality is such that finding the right job—working for someone else—was nearly impossible. I think it was because I needed to be needed…needed to be the one that, if I didn’t haul my ass out of bed and get to work, the important stuff wasn’t going to get done. I had exactly one job like that in my whole life, and it was my dream job. Most employers, however, are in the business of making it crystal clear to their employees that they are far from irreplaceable…the old “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out” philosophy. That just does not work for me.

So, anyway, yesterday was a good day. I have my first event of the season coming up in a week. I have—praise the Creator—work to do. I have to buy supplies, make product, spiff up equipment, make lists, check things off the lists, run my butt off…for at least a few hours a day, anyway. And it makes the sunshine a little brighter, the blue sky a little bluer, and my night’s sleep a little more welcome. Life is good.

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