Frantic At Its Best

I'm feeling a little frantic today. I spent a pleasant weekend doing fun things, visiting with friends, watching a movie with Steve, and eating far too much. It was lovely. And now I'm frantic. I'm feeling like an elf on speed... (if only I knew what an elf on speed felt like).

I have tons to do this week, orders to fill, a Christmas craft bazaar to prepare for (it's only this Saturday, no need for panic... ACK!), and presents to make for my oh so lucky loved ones.

But you know what? This is Good Frantic. This is the kind of frantic that puts a fine edge on my artistic skills. I work better under pressure. Always.

I used to work under Bad Frantic pressure. Icky. Forty hours a week of feeling like I was never going to meet my work load, never going to make anyone happy (including myself), 10 - 20 hours of commute time per week, a weekend that was gone in a blink, laundry piled everywhere, dishes in limbo between cupboard, fridge and dishwasher, house never ever clean. I hated it. I hated that feeling of being pulled in a direction I didn't want to go. And I rarely had any real time for creativity. The longing for that was crushing.

Now here I am, doing what I love, all day, pretty much every day - yes, even on weekends. I don't have to battle traffic and, as a result, despise people I don't even know. I'm sitting here in my pjs and bathrobe writing this, my unbrushed hair would be the envy of Witchy Poo, and I took time out of my other tasks to make some bread from the left over sweet potatoes (which is beginning to smell damned good!). I can work whatever hours I want to. If I'm up at 2 a.m. and feel like working, it gets done, and maybe I'll take a nap at 3 p.m.

I think if you figure out what you really love, find your passion, and strive to do whatever it takes to make that your "work," the feelings of franticness will make you happy. Why? Because being busy, and even overly busy, means you're doing it right.

So, bring on the frantic. Me n' my super suit are ready.