Blue Butter

Every so often, something happens that reminds us of an incredibly good decision we’ve made in some area of our lives.  Sometimes our spouses do something that causes us to send up a quick prayer of gratitude.  It can as simple as hitting the clothes hamper instead of the floor or as exciting as a surprise vacation to Italy.  Most of the time, it’s the little things.  And sometimes, it has as much to do with an initial decision that was made in desperation.As we all know, the mortgage industry has taken a huge hit.  I think for the first time in my life, I was able to see how national economic issues affected my own life.  Since I was in the mortgage business and worked for a small brokerage company, in a small town, no less, the loss of my job was almost imminent.  I was also one of the rare ones who received a salary.  Although I had my originator’s license, my job was on an administrative level.  I handled the payables and receivables, worked as the go-between with the banking and consumer finance division of the state and was the office manager.  It never really occurred to me that I’d have a problem finding a new position.  In fact, I’d never had a problem.  This time was different.  I sent 52 resumes out with absolutely no offers.  I must have reviewed my resume a thousand times, looking for that one typo or poor sentence structure that stuck out like a sore thumb, inhibiting my efforts.  There were no typos and my references were solid.  On a fluke, I did a quick search for freelancing positions.  I was looking for anything that would provide an income.  Well, almost anything.  My mom would’ve kicked my ass if I considered prostitution.  And besides, I’m too old.  And have too  close of a relationship with Blue Bell ice cream that keeps me from wearing those little get-ups.  And if I thought I was broke before, trust me, this line of work would’ve ensured I became homeless.  So, without that being a consideration, I looked for anything else would’ve provided an income.  I found an excellent outsourcing site and the rest is history. 

Now for the epiphany.  Yesterday, as I was going into town, I had the radio on and heard the DJ say something along the lines of, “Up next, your favorite afternoon personality comes on.  And you know what that means: you’re two thirds finished with your workday!”  And it hit me.  If I can continue doing well in the freelance arena and can support the bills and Blue Bell addiction, I will never have to view working as a 9-5, nicely boxed and constricted “duty”.  It hit me that for the first time in my life, my assignments are based solely on what I choose them to be.  I’ve known since beginning this journey that I was doing what many wanted to do, but this was different.  This was some kind of thumbs-up from heaven.  Just the fact that I haven’t set an alarm clock in two months is blissfully fulfilling.  My only problem is ensuring I don’t become too much of a hermit, which is going to be a challenge, since I’m sort of a loner anyway.  The whole “too much of a good thing” aspect is a bit worrisome, but manageable and certainly doesn’t go into the “con” side of my list.  In fact, in my list of “pros and cons” that I seem to have for every aspect of my life, this is the only unbalanced list, as everything falls into the “pros” side while the “cons” side is well, blank.  If I choose to work within a typical and traditional work day, that’s fine, but usually, I’m vacuuming at 3 a.m. and anyone who stops in is just as likely to see the computer alive and kicking at 1 in the afternoon as it is at 1 in the morning.  The point is, all of the stress - and when you notice your hair coming out in your brushes in clumps, you know it’s stress - but the stress I felt only a few months ago is replaced with a peace and contentment.  The bills are still due, but I’ve learned it’s one crisis at a time and one day at a time.  And although is a gruesomely slow dance, the bills are beginning to lose their weight on my shoulders.  The burdens are being lifted and I’m grateful for the absence of any fear that might could have prevented me from pursuing this under different circumstances.  Maybe it’s one of those things that God knows better than any of us ever can.  Sometimes it boils down to knocking our heads against the wrong walls so that only the right ones, the painless ones, remain.