Hello Again

As I sit in the garden I realise how annoying it is that the gentle breeze keeps blowing my hair gently across my back.

It fucking tickles.

To the right of me S’ motorbike cover ripples in the breeze causing a crinkling sound, broken only by the seagulls squawking from our roof, and the gentle hum of passing bees, which I swerve because no matter the distance it always sounds like they’re right next to my ear.

The sun is beating down on me. It’s been unusually warm in England this year. I don’t mean to go all “English” on you by talking about the weather, but Spring took its sweet time in getting here and was immediately bypassed by summer which has given us glorious sunshine filled days (almost) ever since. It’s marvellous, and hot, and because I am a pasty-ass white girl, I’m doused in factor 30. I’m in the process of writing an article (not this one) and as I sit here and (productively) procrastinate I realise that I’m currently going through the best and worst of times, yet I’ve never felt more content. Not content in the way where life is boring and needs mixing up, but the type of calm which slowly develops no matter how amidst the chaos you are.

Because after taking the plunge last month and jumping into freelancing, I finally feel like I’m on the right track.

It has taken some adjustment, for sure. I am SO good at working for other people that when I commit to a job I am all in. I’ll go above and beyond what’s expected of me to get the work done and offer my unwarranted opinions to help a place grow. But when you put so much of yourself into other people’s dreams, sometimes you drift off-course from your own.

It’s so easy to hide behind ‘being tired’, and I am no less guilty. At the beginning of this year, I could have had fifteen hours sleep and I’d still wake up ‘tired’. I didn’t know where it was coming from. My job was good enough, my home/social life was excellent, and our home was finally starting to take shape (and by that I mean we’ve been here almost a year and we’re almost finally done decorating – HOLY SHITBALLS HOUSES ARE EXPENSIVER THAN YOU ORIGINALLY REALISE MY FRIENDS). But, I digress. I am so easily distracted (not sure if you noticed) that I get swept up in the current. I find so much joy in other people being happy that it’s only when I’m out surfing their waves of happiness, that I realise that actually, I had shit to do back on the beach. I don’t know if that analogy makes sense. All I can think about right now is driving down to West Wittering beach with a BBQ and some friends and chilling on the sand that will undoubtedly, burn my ass and my feet when I touch it. And ice-cream. Man, I could eat some ice-cream right now.


See what I mean about being easily distracted?
Anyways. My weird analogy. Basically, it’s difficult for me to realise that I’m drifting off course until I’ve already done it. I am such an “all in” type of person that it happens so often. But as I sit here licking this deliciously refreshing Vimto ice lolly (not a spon, I bought them from Aldi and they’re just really great), I look back and realise that I didn’t do it this time.

No lies. I really *am* that easily distracted.

I thought I felt happy when I first discovered that marketing was what I wanted to do back in 2014, but whilst that felt like a reprieve from career-option paralysis, this feels a lot like making a recipe for the first time and it coming out both cooked AND edible. This time it doesn’t feel like I made a choice, it feels like I made the right choice, and that feels pretty fucking fantastic.

When I took my last full-time job, I told myself before I’d even started that they would be my last employers, that once I had fulfilled my purpose there, I would embark on the journey of self-employment. Sure, I thought I had longer to teach myself how to get up early without an alarm (it’s harder than it seems) But here we are. I woke up at 8:30 am yesterday, today I woke up at 8 am and tomorrow I’ll probably wake up at 11 am because it’s a weekend and I’m not an animal.


The illusive ‘they’ say that practice makes perfect and since I began freelancing I have written every day. Which is wonderful considering that I am, and want to be, a writer. Unfortunately, a lot of the time my writing hasn’t been on this blog. There’s no lack of time or effort excuse – I’ve had plenty of both, it’s just I haven’t prioritised this space because this blog makes me money occasionally, whereas writing for other people makes me money regularly. Gal’s got to pay her bills, because being alive is expensive.

I haven’t touched this blog in over five weeks. I didn’t intend for it to be that long between posts – I tried to write whilst we were in Italy, but yano, we were in Italy and I could write or I could eat carbs—my expanded waistline will tell you who won that toss up… I logged in for the first time in forever yesterday, updated some plugins, did some maintenance, checked that nothing was 404’ing and took a quick peek at the stats whilst I was there. I was expecting to see nothing. Yet there sat spikes telling me that people still came here. To the place where I spill out sentences into the void. That moved me.

I love technology and what we’ve been able to achieve in the world of the internet, especially when I think back to my childhood days of having to embrace *shudders* dial-up broadband. But the internet moves so quickly that sometimes it feels like if you’re not the best or the most regular blogger, then you need to get out the game. But on the other hand, I don’t think that story-telling is a game. Sometimes life happens and you drift away from your original goal. Sometimes that goal changes, but as I sit here in the sun, procrastinating by writing this blog post when I should be writing an article, I realise that my goal with this little internet-space of mine is still very much the same as when I first started: I want to remember.

I started this blog in May 2013 so that I could look back on my life and remember how I lived – yet if I was to look back at this blog over the past month I wouldn’t see anything. Yet during that time so much has happened. I’ve seen friends. I’ve spent time with family, I had my first real argument with S (not bad considering we’ve been together for almost a decade!) and I’ve managed to not kill two plants. Yeah, you read that right! TWO. I even bought a third plant because I’m getting cocky now that I’ve learnt to keep something, other than myself, alive.

I’ve started cooking for passion and not necessity again. I have tan lines on my back from gardening. I GARDEN NOW. Well, technically that last point is an overstretch, I don’t technically garden – I trimmed a bush, painted a shed, three fences and a bike shed. I pulled out some weeds and some stupid ivy stuff which keeps growing up the fence. So *technically* I paint things in the garden more than I actually garden, but it still counts and I have the tan lines on my back to prove it. TAKE THAT PEOPLE WHO THINK FREELANCERS DON’T GO OUTSIDE!

And during this time, I’ve taken a long hard look at myself. I do that a lot. I like to self-analyse because if I don’t know or understand myself, how can I expect anybody else to? And what I’ve learnt over my latest round of intrinsic thinking, is that I am so easily lost, yet so easily found. I experience confusion, deprivation and feelings of hopelessness so vividly. Yet I stick my nose in a book or feel the sun on my skin and suddenly I am home again. The past two months have been busy, full of emotions, confusion, new beginnings and almost sad endings. Yet, minus a minor argument, it’s also been my happiest.

And I’ve realised that sometimes the decisions that scare you, are the best ones you can make.