It's Not All Unicorns and Rainbows

The last few weeks have been tough. This little side business of mine - the creative outlet - is decidedly NOT an outlet lately.

It's an inlet.

An inlet of stress, annoyance, tedium, and distraction.

I'm familiar with the ebb and flow of creative work, but it never gets easier. I'm usually pretty fried before a deadline. In this case, I'm getting ready for the upcoming Minneapolis Yoga Conference.

irony = a yoga conference causing stress

I can't begin to quantify the hours I've spent doing photo shoots of product, redesigning my website (twice), editing and uploading photos, syncing all my web outlets and accounts, making signage, posting to social media, etc. I have no formal training in any of this, so it's slow-going and I'm a bit of a hack. So many mouse clicks, so much repetition, and so much to learn. Actually, I LOVE the learning part, but there aren't enough hours in the day.

And then came this:

"Mom I've been trying to tell you I'm sad but you're always so busy."  

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK.

This work is not supporting me or my family.  I have a "real" job for that. 

In this moment, it's not even a good creative outlet. The "business" side of this small-and-not-yet-profitable business is a giant time-suck. And apparently, it's sucking me away from the people who are most important. 

So this is real life. I can't wrap it up with a pithy observation or inspirational quote. It's just going to suck for a while until I figure it out. 

"Real" isn't what we see or read online most of the time. It's not all dreamy filters, hand-lettered words of wisdom, photoshopped selfies and mouth-watering instagram feeds from hip restaurants. 

People ask: "How on earth do you do it all?" Here's how: 

  • I have dogs who pee in the basement every. single. day.
  • I have hair falling out from stress.
  • I have a bottomless box of wine.
  • I take Prozac.
  • I am 4-8 minutes late. For everything.
  • I drink a shameful amount of diet coke.
  • I cry. 
  • I yell.
  • Sometimes, I take my husband for granted.
  • I have expired tabs, unpaid bills, lost passwords, and split ends.
  • I have a Spotify playlists called "Pissed" and "Morose".

The truth: it doesn't all get done. It's not perfect. It's covered in dog hair, dirty dishes, dandruff and dust mites.

Don't believe the curated social feeds. We've all got our shit. Maybe we should share that once in a while. Now I'm off to launder teenage athletic gear, pick up dog poop, plunge the toilet, and dig some non-organic/frozen/prepackaged food out of the freezer for the kids.

Post-script: finding an image for this post pulled me out of my funk a bit. Go ahead and google "unicorns and rainbows". Thanks Internet!