I used to consider myself a creative person. I spent my weekends in high school stretching out my hamstrings on the living room floor while watching movies in French and Italian (with. out. subtitles.) and reading any book by a female author before 1800 that I could get my hands on. I actively sought out things that exercised my right brain.
And now? I go to work. I work very hard and think a lot, but it’s about law and insurance and reading contracts and understanding what the heck my clients do. I come home. Don’t get me wrong, my job exercises that type A part of me that wants things to be organized and fast-paced and stimulating in the left-brainy way, and I really enjoy what I do. It’s weird for people NOT in my industry to hear me say things like “I really love insurance!” but I do. It’s a great industry to be in with a lot of good people, and I work for an amazing company who values their employees and takes pretty good care of them.
BUT. I can’t help always feeling like I’m letting that creative part of my brain wither away over the years. That’s what hobbies are for, I hear you saying. But I’m lazy and about to have a lot less time for myself because I am growing a little human who is going to flip my world upside down and take up every spare moment I have outside of work. I wish I could work in two departments at once – oh please boss? Won’t you let me write colorful words for you on Mondays and Tuesdays in Media/Marketing, and then handle my 400 emails Wednesday through Friday? Actually, while we’re at it, how about you just give me Fridays off so I have time to just be my diva self and go to farmer’s markets with my kid?
Ok guys, rant over. I must go supervise the ceiling progress.