more about me

It's a shocking admission for a person with a blog, I know, but just lately I'm getting sick of talking about myself. It's been an enormous reawakening, that much is true, but I think I'm at the point in my 'process' where I just need to focus on something else. So hooray. Now what could it be? In my ideal fantasy world, I'd quit my hideous, unfulfilling but ridiculously well-paying job and become a freelance journalist specialising in home and lifestyle articles for those glossy magazines that have me salivating with covetous intent. I'd write a book about trying to live with depression. My blog would be read and admired by lots of people in all different countries, and I'd be on a first-name basis with like-minded individuals on the opposite side of the globe. I'd learn to cook, and my family would learn to eat. I'd become a vegetarian. I'd have another baby, when the time feels close to right.
Two things have become apparent: 1. I'm still talking about myself. Old habits. 2. None of these things are technically in the 'fantasy' realm at all. They're all quite achievable, in fact. Who knows what might happen?