Well there we go. I followed a whim, a whimsical kind of whim, and decided to register for two classes today. Well, not two classes exactly, but a workshop, or rather a series of workshops and then a series of classes on Tai Chi and Qi Gong. Because I am the master of my own body, or rather, I am going to finagle a way to master my own body so I can redirect its brokenness into something a little more whole and less prone to buckling. And the workshop? Yeah, one of those small business entrepreneurial endeavors which basically just involves me going to a series of talks and workshop groups about some of the finer aspects of being your own boss, from the marketing to idea generation to the accounting, business setup, financing, the building and maintenance of the thing from start to finish, I guess. A workshop for entrepreneurs. I have always fancied that word. Now I can be one.

I know…I know I am probably overdue for all of this guidance…but for me, better late than never is a kind of working charm. I am sometimes last in line because I spend an inordinate amount of time daydreaming of wanderlust and escape. I’m also often like a kitten enchanted with the next sparkly thing shining in front of me. This is a philosophy which has left me relatively directionless, a jack of all trades master of none kind of girl. I mean, I do master a few things…namely anything which requires a physical solution, creative expression, building, whatever. But my trade, or rather my profession would need to be something like creator/inventor/problem solver. I realized this as I was wandering around an art supply store today, picking and choosing over the many offerings they now sell on those shelves…did you know they have diorama kits? In the A+ student project area. Gone are my days of homemade playdoh and creative uses of wax and cardboard and paint and grass clippings, sticks and clay. No no…you can pretty much do anything now. Anyways, yeah. I could make a business out of much that I came across today…which really leads me back to my original intentions years ago of being the punk rock martha stewart (yeah she sucks, pay attention to the analogy) and having my own little empire of deanna things to sell. One of these days, Alice, one of these days…

And I did hit confirm on the registration for these classes which is not something I usually do. I fake shop for many things all of the time and never hit confirm so I can avoid buyer’s remorse. And because the instant gratification of the internet is something I am very wary of in every respect, I am trying to reject it from becoming more than it is to me right now–an escapists tool to entertain me when I am too lazy to move.  And I very well might be sorry, but I am thinking…no, no, I doubt it. I did also want to partake in the offerings at an art school here, but I think I might have to wait to see what my future transportation looks like. That 5k car I have been thinking about snagging, or rather, convinced I could raise the money to get is something, sure. But I am not sure if I could get something less invasive to my current finances…though the car is in great shape, a Suburu ( yeah yeah yeah…whatever, they are good in the snow). The lead is from a friend who has done me some serious favors and has given me some fantastic insight into my business, and has offered some other little gems which I have easily gobbled up to keep my head above the sink.

And so I have been slowly releasing, like the poppies in front of my sister’s place. Slow, slow release and then boom!!! There she is. All I needed to do was bite the bullet and, you know, go out in public. I said this to someone else laughing earlier last week. Public, yes. Public is where the people are. And my future as yet unknown friends happen to be hiding in the corner of my as yet unhad experiences. I even decided to knock on the door, no, I rang the doorbell, of a house down the road because the party they were having needed me there. And it did. For the whole hour of sobriety I had left in me last night after venturing downtown. Yeahhh, that or those were something else situations I won’t soon forget. I can readily admit that my reception upon the neighbors opening the door for me, having never seen me before, was warm enough and funny enough I am pretty sure I will do it again, you know, invite myself to the party if it seems like a worthy one. I clearly have no shame, no, I really just don’t care. I run around under the pretense that I can get a way with a lot just because I can turn on the charm of the situation requires it.

Oh, and my sweeping generalized worries about people here are largely unfounded in many respects. People take their time here. They take their sweet little time. For pretty much everything. I am so not used to that I am trying to kind of numb myself down, or dumb myself down to expect nothing to happen in any kind of reasonable time frame–job, friends, whatever. I did get my place done at a record pace, but that was because I was my own conductor—and shockingly, sometimes I just don’t mess around. And I am starting to fashion a life for myself out of what I have in front of me…which is rife with opportunity and promises of a better tomorrow.

And a better tomorrow is sometimes all you can wish to have.