They say that it takes 12 weeks to form a new habit, I left the real world of work just over 12 weeks ago, and if you'd asked me at the beginning of May I'd have said I'd made a terrible mistake. I was missing my work pals (still do), the lack of a reliable income was agonising, and those crows that I were hoping would bring me presents just hadn't come through. I kept going though - cobbling together articles, making more patterns for a brief I'd set myself, greedily grasping for those lovehearts on Instagram.
Now, it's like an invisible anxiety weight has been lifted. I'm in the groove of this new way of life. Sure we don't have as much money, but we're getting by. I miss my work friends, but I'm making new ones in the school playground, the crows can do what they like... But I'm in talks with my publisher about the next book, the teacher training will start soon, I can fit the evening classes around the boys, and the little admin job for the indie yarn company needs just a tiny bit of tweaking and it'll be there.
The garden is finally feeding us (well, a little bit, but it all helps), I get to be home when the boys are ill or the school is closed for an unexpected burst pipe (true story) without feeling the crippling guilt of not going to the office. I'm not floored from exhaustion all the time from commuting, school runs, dinner making and bedtimes.
The point is that it was really hard and frightening to make that leap, and you will be racked with dread that it wasn't the right thing to do, but it really is worth it. You'll never know unless you try.
Trialling new yarns for the next book
Just being able to spend time altogether xxx
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