A peaceful end to a hectic day

It seems old habits die hard. Before I had even managed to pry my eyes open this morning, I lay in bed dreading the day...contemplating miserably all that I would have to accomplish and the hours that I would have to work, and then synapsis started firing and I remembered the awesome truth! I quit my job over a month ago effectively terminating my indentureship to corporate America! Don't get me wrong. Corporate America is very nice if you like that sort of thing, but it can be stifling for a right brained, bohemian such as myself (see previous entries for Bohemian references). I am now a self employed professional photographer, with all of the rights and privileges that come part and parcel with such an auspicious title, to include; creative freedom (as long as the client likes it), the ability to work whatever hours I chose (currently all of them...all 24), and I write my own paycheck (after business expenses, roughly the equivalent of minimum wage...in 1975). Okay, maybe it's not perfect but despite everything it's perfect for me! I want to hug Derek every morning for trudging off to that afforementioned corporate America so that I can indulge my creative whims.

Now even the mundane details of running a business seem interesting and fun. At least it's fun watching my sister Jeannie set up all the bookkeeping for me. The really fun part is watching her face get all red and flustered looking as she mutters dire epithets about my accounting skills under her breath. Hey, I'm a photographer, not an accountant.

So once I remembered my newly acquired status as a photographic entrepenuer my mood took a quick upswing. In fact the last vestiges of yesterdays menepausal meltdown even began to fade...unfortunately not before I downed half a bag of mini baby ruth bars, most of a box of rice krispie treats and a third of a box of Lucky charms as a midnight snack last night.

I jumped out of bed now, actually eager to begin my day. I send e-mails, edited photos, returned calls and did all manner of other things that business women do. Then it was off to an appointment at The Pain Clinic. I had been my original understanding that The Pain Clinic was a place of healing and compassion where men and women of science alleviate pain and suffering. I was quickly disabused of this faulty misimpression when Dr. Death grabbed two hypodermic syringes and uttered those infamous and horribly inaccurate words "You'll feel a little sting now". With wicked precision he jabbed the first syringe into my knotted right shoulder muscle, which apparently needed punishing for its sins. Oh sure, the needle was tiny, about the size of an insulin needle but when you fill even the tiniest syringe with acid a little needle is still going to pack a punch. He swears it was only an anesthetic and that there was no acid involved, but of course he's going to say that. Before I could get out more than a whimper he had plunged the other needle into my equally sinful left shoulder muscle. I would have taken him down but the sneakly little bugger was standing behind me, rendering my flailing feet ineffectual.

In Dr. Death's defense within minutes of the injections the rock hard muscles in my shoulders and neck that have tormented me for weeks, began to loosen and relax. I practically floated out of his office, more relaxed than I had been in ages. I had to stop at Westroads mall to look at the display wall for a shoot I'm currently working on, so I called Derek on my way to let him know how my appointment had gone. To my intense delight, he said he would tear himself away from his vendor filled schedule and meet me for lunch. You can't beat the little mid-day stolen moments. After a fantastic lunch I ran a couple of errands and headed home to find Jeannie involved in what, I'm fairly certain, was a voodoo ritual involving my expense receipts. I'm certain there was a chicken head hidden under the desk.

I talked to Samantha on the phone, who informed me that my beautiful eldest grandchild, Eden, had decided to run herself a bath. Please keep in mind that when I say eldest, I mean eldest of the four grandkids. It is really a relative term as she is still less than two and a half years old. Seems that Samantha, for lack of a better place, had temporarily dumped several loads of clean laundry into the bathtub to be folded and put away later in the day. Eden didn't seem at all bothered by the present of the pile of clean clothes and went ahead and started running her bathwater. Samantha suspected that something was up when Eden came in and the first words out of her mouth were "I love you mommy". Grandkids are the coolest. You get all of the cute, funny experiences and none of the cleanup.

In the evening we had a photoshoot. There I was getting to be all creative again. I just love that! A little time spent editing and here I am wrapping up a particularly creative, productive and wholly enjoyable day. Well, except the Dr. Death thing. But even that had a happy ending and now I will toddle off for a good nights sleep with my newly relaxed shoulders.