I have a lot of fun doing what I do.
I love doing what I do.
But it comes with a price. I work really hard. I mean 24/7. Emails, booking, contracts, contacts, networking, creating, creating, creating, practice, travel, tell, tell, tell.
Sometimes at 3am my husband will walk into my office and ask when I am coming to bed...but the mojo is flowing and I cannot stop.
My daughter told me that it is like having divorced parents, she only sees me 2 days a week. (Don't feel to bad about this, she is 20 for goodness sakes.)
My friend told me she might be moving. I said that it would be sad if she moved. She said that it shouldnt matter...we never see each other anymore.
My dogs are shifting their loyalty to my husband. Now this smarts.
My gardens are not what they used to be.
But I wouldn't change a thing.
I had a woman come up to me with tears in her eyes and tell me that she was so touched by my story that she is going to start visiting her mother more. Her mom is in a nursing home.
A little girl named Jeannie kept her head down and shuffled her feet as she told me that she was a tomboy too. And I told her that was okay. And she smiled up at me.
A roomful of people laughed and then cried as I told them how I danced with my mother.
These three things happened in one day. One day of many.
So, sleep can wait. My daughter will build her own life. My friend will always be my friend. And the dogs, well...they keep my husband company.
I cannot stop. I love what I do.
Actually, it is not about what I do....it is more about who I am.
I am a storyteller.