Wait For It ....

I had this feeling the other day of being ready for the next, next thing, like really ready, like ripe-fruit-falling-off-a-tree ready. So what I did was I went shopping for sofas we don’t need, can’t afford, and ultimately, wouldn’t really work for our kid-friendly (read: jumping on furniture, spilling stuff a lot of the time) lifestyle. But that ready feeling is back, or never left, and I’m done numbing out on sofas, sectionals, and ottomans. It might be time to look at submission guidelines for actual publications that aren’t only my blog controlled by me. Yep. Yikes.

I’m thinking that’s the next thing. The next thing is not getting that Real Estate License or starting-up something that makes money while I sleep or learning to bake gluten-free anything. Those things might happen, but not next.

Next is going to be going even more public with my little essays, which I’m not totally sure how to do, but I’m sure it can be done. Without changing how I am. I don’t want to get all weird and phony. Fear. I’m gonna keep it real and keep going. Hope.

I’m going to think about doing that anyway and let myself feel how that feels for a bit, without running to buy anything or sell anything or post anything on Facebook or join a new gym. Yes, I'm going to think, feel, and breathe. That’s a good place to start. That’s a start. Here I go ...