Sometimes I catch myself getting a little caught up in daydreaming about the kind of life I could have, only not really.
In my dream alternate life, I have my old farm house or sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I just have my house with my amazingly cheap mortgage. I think about cleaning, polishing the floors, making everything smell fresh. I think about cooking, trying new recipes, eating well. I think about gardening, flowers and vegetables and herbs. I think about reading and writing and helping the future child with homework. Sometimes I think about homeschooling. I think about all of the hobbies I set aside and the things that I wish I could do better but just don’t have the time for.
Yes, I’m reading the blog again.
I know that this is pretty much an impossibility at this point in time. I know that I am paying for a master’s degree. I know that I cannot just drop out of the work force. I know that I would have a hard time letting Hubby support me. I have been partially supported before and being even partially supported put me in a difficult and abusive position. My life, at present, is built so that I can live it alone if I need to. Lord knows I don’t WANT to. I love hubby, which also means I can’t imagine putting him under that much pressure.
So, that means that the only real course of action for me right now is to try to do more of these things while working and growing a baby. Maybe my house can be all fresh and clean if I keep at it. Maybe I can grow a garden this year. Maybe I am capable of doing more with less time.
But it sure is nice to dream. Except those times it makes me want to cry.