WANT.

WANT.

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Dare I dream?!

Thursday I went and looked through a property for rent just a few blocks from my house. It would be perfect for a graphic design and photography studio!

The first floor is pretty big. It’s got plenty of room for a big conference table, or a medium conference table and a couch and a couple chairs. It’s got built in shelving I could put some mild Passion Party products and some Thirty-one products on. I was thinking maybe I could rent it by the hour to people who were looking for a meeting place that didn’t want to meet at a restaurant or bar. Such as, oh, I don’t know, other consultants whose hostesses didn’t want to have a party at their place or a noisy bar?! Or professionals who just need to meet with a client for an hour or two? It’s got a bathroom and a storage room on that floor too. Eventually I could have pop and snacks available. Sealed, of course; I don’t want to mess with food preparation and all the rules that go with it.

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Then the second floor could be my studio. Its even got a second entrances itch concrete steps and a pretty, old-fashioned awning. There’s walls that have huge windows looking out onto Mt Vernon Road. The windows are so big, two of the walls are more window than wall! I would love to put my desk there in front of one big window then the other two would provide amazing natural light so I could get some shots without using flash. Then there’s another room that could be the photography studio with lots of space for all the lights and backdrops. There’s a room right behind it that could be storage for all my photo props. Then there’s a door that goes out to a little patio where folks could relax and smoke so I wouldn’t have people smoking in front of the building. There’s a small alcove and another small room that used to be a small kitchen and breakfast nook. There’s built in shelving taking up one wall that is very pretty and ornate much more interesting than a plain shelving. It’s designed so you can make a small circle going from room to room so it’s open.

Then there’s a third floor that has a full bathroom and another room with one wall that’s a big closet all the length of the wall.

There’s walls and more walls and even more walls that I can fill up with my photography for sale, gallery-style.

I took video for Tom and I’ll share it with you.

It’s perfect.

It’s absolutely perfect.

Here’s the BUT.

Rent? Is $1790 a month. **sighs**

Even with the graphic design and the photography and renting the conference room by the hour… I’m not sure I could break even with rent that high.

But a girl can dream.

What about me?

What about me?
It isn’t fair!
I’ve had enough,
now I want my share!
Can’t you see?
I wanna live
But you just take more
than you give
Moving Pictures – What About Me

This is my red flag.

I can be merrily rolling along, the sky’s blue, the birds are singing just for me, when something lands

(THUD.)

Right in the middle of my perfectly good day.

And it doesn’t exactly smell like roses.

It offends my delicate sensabilities, and it might even make my lip curl.

Sometimes I don’t even recognize this, but… at that moment, I have a choice.

I can choose right thinking, and extend people involved some grace and the benefit of the doubt.

Or I can choose wrong thinking, and start spinning conspiracy theories. I might have a well-timed tantrum if the wind blows right. I might even enlist innocent bystanders into my battle, and get them riled up for the cause.

In the middle of my self-righteous railing against a situation I have minimal control over, my grumbling and complaining might have even reached fever pitch before the star of my pity party shows up.

But here it comes. In 3… 2… 1…

What about me?

There it is.

And we’re off!

How dare they take the good stuff and leave me leftovers! What about me? Don’t I deserve good stuff too?

How dare they leave me out of that decision! What about me? Don’t I deserve a say?

How dare they push me aside! What about me? Don’t I deserve to be front and center?

How dare they leave me out of the loop! What about me? Don’t I deserve to be in the know as well?

How dare they not consider how I feel! What about me? Don’t I deserve to be heard?

How dare they be abrupt with me! What about me? Don’t I deserve to be treated well?

How dare they pass me over! What about me? Don’t I deserve to be seen?

What. About. ME?

WHAT. ABOUT. ME?

Sometimes I catch that red flag right away. Sometimes I need Tom to wave that red flag.

But hopefully, eventually, I see that red flag emblazoned with the war cry of selfishness – WHAT ABOUT ME.

And hopefully, eventually, I heed that red flag and stop and think.

Because… new flash… It’s not about me.

It shouldn’t be.

If I’m making it about me, my whole raison d’etre is wrong.

If I’m making it about God, I’m on the right track.

Because if I make it about serving Him in my every step, my every breath, every heartbeat, then He will take care of the rest, much better than I ever could have done.

When I work, when I play; when I serve my husband, when I serve my sons; I’ve got to be doing it for God, not for me.

For this moment, right now, I’ve got that straight.

But I’m sure I’ll see that stupid red flag soon.

Probably in a few minutes.

I’m kind of dense like that sometimes.

I just pray that I see it and then make the right choice before any major damage is done.

Some days it might be better not to post at all. Oops.

I’m all discombobulated.

Shuddup. That’s totally a word.

This job is such a roller coaster.

Some days I come home and think, my good Lord, I love my job. I can hardly believe how lucky I am to be able to help people and get paid for it.

Some days I come home and think, my good Lord, what the hell am I doing? They could pull a monkey off the street to do my job for free.

Some days I come home (at 8:15am!) and I literally pass my husband on the street; I’m on the way home and he’s on the way to work. And I feel sad.

Some nights I leave at 11:45pm as my husband is getting ready for bed, and all I want in this world is to crawl into bed with him and talk about his day until the conversation peters out and I drape an arm over his chest to feel it slowly rising and falling. And I feel lonely.

Some days (nights!) my husband wakes me up for work and says, I’m sorry, you missed your son’s school play while you were sleeping. He did great. It was unbelievable how amazingly he delivered his lines with just the right inflection. And I cry. Then that son says, I wish you could have been there, Mom. I felt you not there. And I cry some more.

I miss living my life with my husband. I miss my sons.

And I pray yet again, Lord, I want to be back in the real world, sleeping at night and living the day, just like everyone else. Am I missing a lesson here? Are you trying to teach me something that I’m just not getting? Teach me louder, Lord. I’m trying to learn.

But… silence. Nothing.

Some days I cannot bring you the funneh. I just don’t have it in me.

I’m sorry.

Mission of Hope Christmas Food Baskets (PLEASE pass on!)

This video was put together to show you the inside of the ministry I’m a part of.

Mission Of Hope needs your help to disdribute food baskets this Christmas.

Please consider how you can make a difference in someone’s life…

And then read this to find out The Top Ten Items to Donate to Mission of Hope or YOUR Local Mission

Thank you, mah peepull!