it’ll come to me

that’s kind of how i get through life.

no idea what to make for dinner for the other five humans in the house? it’ll come to me.

stuck on how to unf^%k a budget due in less than a month? it’ll come to me.

straighten out my feelings when it comes to closing down my studio and figuring out what’s next?

yeah…i’m not so sure.

two weeks ago, my husband and i were sitting at our desks (we’re cool like that) and i was lamenting something or other ('i’m a lamenter, obvs) and he looked at me with all that man-logic and said, “if it’s not serving you, shut it down.”

i clutched my pearls, of course.

what could he possibly mean? if the studio isn’t serving me? how could something that eats at me every night with zero return and dwindling interest NOT serve me. (irony, of course…)

so for once, i pushed my more dramatic impulses aside and decided to cut away at the thing in my life that, while fun and new, wasn’t serving me anymore.

and to be honest, it kinda hurt. sorta like a gaping chest wound.

but then i realized all the freedom (AND MONEY) i’ll have back and it’s cool. but in its place? that’s the hard part. i’m so good at instantly filling my life with the next exciting commitment, but i’ve sworn on blood (not my own, ya’ll…that would be gross) that i won’t rush into any more promises that i won’t want to keep after a few weeks and to allow myself to take a deep breath.

to not feel the need to answer “what now?” before i’ve even turned my key in to the landlord. to sit with myself and my family for a few months and just be.

to allow what’s next to find it’s way to me because…

it’ll come to me.