I've been a housewife for almost a month now. It seems funny to me how the days seem to run together. I would swear I only stopped working a couple of days ago...but time has a strange way of slipping away from me. Over the last few weeks I have had a lot of people asking me how I like being a housewife. It seems to be the first question everyone who doesn't see me on a near daily basis asks me.
The truth is, I actually am really enjoying myself. I have to be honest, though, I think a lot of people are under the mistaken impression that I lie around all day eating chocolates and reading romance novels. That's only about a quarter true. I have been reading a lot of romance novels, but that's more because I am looking into them as a form of research rather than because I lack things to do.
My house is certainly much cleaner than it has been in the last four years. It never ceases to amaze me how I find that the second I turn around there is something else to clean. I didn't realize I am a compulsive cleaner up till now. But the first thing I did when I found I had spare time was start cleaning. Deep cleaning, mind you. I've developed quite the routine that way. There's already a pattern I have in place. Deep clean the carpets every Thursday. Vacuum every other day. Dishes in the morning. Laundry when the basket in the bathroom fills up. Fold and put it away on Thursday...
But I've been busy with other things too. My life seems like it is more full than it was before, but truly I think I am simply making time for the things I was cramming into my space four hours a night before. I've been working on things for the coven much more frequently, I've filed my poor book of shadows finally, and its almost up to date. I've been working on ritual more frequently, and finding there is always something new to do or to learn.
My writing has been taking up my time as well. November is almost upon me, and I am going to churn out an entire novel in that month. I've worked diligently to plan the outline of the new book and where I want to go with it. I've already looked into possible publishers and I am back on the horse looking for agents that I might be interested in. I know I'm going to find the right one this time, and its going to go more smoothly, because I know what to expect. I've also got that short piece I've been working on. Some days it goes really slow, and I'm proud of five sentences in half an hour. Other days I sit and find that an hour's worth of work is another chapter down. Its refreshing to have time to write and to enjoy doing it.
I love being able to make dinner and have things ready for the girls when they get home. I like planning my day ahead of time. Its nice to have activities to do in my spare time. I've started working on a quilt for Kitten in my spare time. I've almost got all of the squares cut out. Its only a matter of time before I start piecing them together. It will be a fun winter project.
I feel a lot more refreshed than I had, although I've had a bout of bad luck with my health. I had a headache for nearly a week solid and then I caught a nasty 24 hour bug that put me down hard in the last couple of days. That wasn't so much fun. But then, as some of my dear friends have pointed out, my body is likely getting rid of the tension caused by many years of stress held in and not dealt with. The nightmares I had the first week or so that I was off work were terrifying, but they're down to a trickle now. I'm not having them as much as I was, and I assume this is a result of me feeling more secure and much happier than I did.
Don't get me wrong, there are days where I feel terribly annoyed that I don't contribute financially to our household. It irritates me to think that I am being supported by my ladies. But then, they don't seem to have a problem with it. In fact, they encourage me to rest, to write, and to take my time getting back together before I even think about looking for another job. Even Kitten's mom, whom I assumed wouldn't like me not working has told me that she thinks its better that I'm home, and that if I want a job I should wait until something perfect comes along. That way I can do something I love.
In the meantime, I am finding life at home to be pleasant. I am able to do the things I like without feeling bad about it. It turns out we really aren't loosing that much money, so the girls aren't worried at all. Sometimes that bothers me too, thinking that maybe I worked all those years for nothing, because when it comes down to it, no one is really missing my income. But then, I learned something from all of those years, so its not like it was all for naught.
I keep wondering when I am going to find that I am bored, or unhappy, or wishing for something else to do with my life. But truly, after a month, I've discovered that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I am making my home a richer, warmer place for my family. I am building on the strength of my friendships. I am working for the good of my coven, without feeling I am giving it half attention, or that I am somehow lacking in my abilities. I am writing, for the first time, whenever I feel like it. I am writing for the joy of it. I am writing because I want to make it my career. And that feels good. Really good.
For me, it took a lot of courage and a lot of trust to let go of my job and come home. I was terrified. I was uncertain. But I am glad now that I did it. There are, of course, some things I wish I could change. I miss some of my work friends. I miss the active feeling I had when I was working. I need to exercise or I'm going to put on weight, I am sure of it. But then, I have more things to do than I did before. I don't see my lack of job as something that leaves me bereft. It has given me the perspective I need to move forward with my life. The insomnia is creeping back in, and don't think its because I am sleeping late. Far from it. I get up earlier now than I ever did when I worked at Casa Bueno. But I find I am not so tired at night that my only option is to fall into bed and go to sleep. I find my mind wandering. I don't mind too much, though. It gives me a chance to think of new things, and to let myself dream of what I want.
For the first time in years, I don't go to bed wondering. I don't go to bed worrying. I just go to bed. And when sleep comes, I'm not afraid. Not of the night or the morning, or the day that comes after. I don't worry about what happened during the day. I merely pass pleasantly on to my dreams, which are their own sort of adventure.
Yes, I think I like this very much. Only time will tell...but then, I have all the time in the world. Don't I?