Little Cuter and I have our own Lean In circle. Instead of wondering why the other is not pursuing her dream, SIR suggested (and we agreed) that we should push instead of kvetch.
She'll start a new business. I'll write a book.
There. I've said it out loud and now I've written it for all the world to see.
I don't have a problem stepping up to the plate, I told the kids. It's taking action that stymies me. They looked at one another and said Project Bat Swing. And so Project Bat Swing it is.
Little Cuter took the bull by the horn and began, that night, after several cocktails, to outline her plan of action. I began to hyperventilate. She had obviously given much more thought to the ins and outs of moving forward than I had. When she said that her timeline would be ready by the following Friday, I panicked.
It's the first week of school. I have GRIN stuff to do. I can't start out behind, I moaned.
The whining was frowned upon, but the message was received. She would finish her timeline whenever she could; there would be no expectations of me until today. She looked quite pleased with herself. I was bemused.... stuck.... anxious... committed.... overwhelmed.
The overwhelmed piece was taken care of nicely - break it into manageable parts, Mom. What will you do first?
First, I have to clean off the desk. No one can work in this kind of an environment.
I put in a call to the organizer who helped me in the past, but I hope to get started before she arrives. I know what I need... and it's not this. With her ingenuity and my checkbook I should be ready to begin compiling the information I need to begin writing.
It's something I've been aching to do but afraid to start since ... well, since forever.
I'll keep you posted as we make progress. For now, I'm going to start recycling the empty envelopes hiding beneath the photos beneath the mouse pad beneath the cable to the printer which courses over scrap paper and scissors and a gift for Brother's Wife which has been staring at me since G'ma died.
It's time to start.