I've spent the last five years bitching because I didn't have a steady income. Because I'm not making a financial contribution to the family. That I'm dead weight and the last nail in the coffin that is our future.
This week I had two business meetings. I'm very certain these meetings have opened doors to other business meetings and possibly new clients.
This wasn't my schedule, originally. But it's my schedule now, because it's here. Phones are ringing and doors are opening.
I am so excited to spend time this weekend reviewing web sites and developing ideas for content. Finding a voice for a company that doesn't quite have one yet. Strategizing about connecting people and ideas to products and services.
People are going to pay me (in American Dollars!) to write stuff for them.
Ideally, this would have happened three years ago. But it didn't.
It's happening now.
Schedule be damned, things are working out now, I guess, because my plan was superseded by a different, bigger plan, that I didn't create.
If I am able to generate clients and start working again, even if only for 10 hours per week, I will feel whole again.
I am hopeful.
I am also sleepy. I think this Prilosec is making me perma-drowsy.
* Husband works hard to not let me believe my own crazy. My contribution, he says, is more than anything that starts with a $ or ends with a k. Sometimes I agree with him. But I'd really like to see some checks with my name on them.