APRIL 8, 2000
So!
i
am published in the ezine AND
received my very first, professional and businesslike,
cheque-in-the-mail
payment for designing a webpage. i confess i am feeling a
bit overwhelmed.
And
ever so pleased with myself :)
i
can't cash the cheque however. In my less than infinite
wisdom i attached my newly chosen "business" name, which
is not a recognized nor registered item as of yet, to the invoice. And the
cheque is made out to that name, rather than my personal
one. So for now i have it propped up again my speakers,
where i can see it and taste the delight it gives me. i was
offered the opportunity of sending it back to be re-issued, but i
have declined so far.
i
think maybe it's time to take the plunge and do something i only
thought about years ago. i've always wanted my own
store/company/business but never felt like i had enough to
offer. But getting paid for something i did offer, and
seeing the cheque typed out in such a professional manner seems to
have flipped a switch in me. It has stroked a good
place in my self esteem. And even if my venture doesn't turn
into a bonafide business, isn't it just as important that i
finally did something i once only dreamed about? Who knows
... perhaps one of the kids will be able to use the name later
on.
Now
if the inside city workers would just settle their strike i could
actually get the registering done!
i have a need to organize
things. Actually, it's more like a compulsion. But the
compulsion seems to cater more to a design sense rather than an
office-like one. i mean, what's more boring than
filing?
What i seem to get
excessive about is where things "should be". Which
means, that when i place a quote here, i will move it up and down
the column until it visually feels comfortable for me. Or
when i am designing a webpage, i will agonize for hours about the
placement of the title. And items in the house find
themselves getting moved about continuously; a wooden box placed
just here and a candle snufter (is that a word?) placed just
there.
And then i become
restless and let the whole environment around me get messy again
... just so that i can have the satisfaction of redoing
everything. i even like dust. i like letting it build
up so that i can have the pleasure of wiping it away.
Feather dusters, although great fun for the cat, just don't have
the same effect as a cloth being run over the surface of a table,
revealing the glow of wood underneath.
Does all this sound
trite? Is it okay to enjoy something so mundane as dusting
when there are earth-shattering issues out in the real
world? Is it okay to agonize over the placement of a dish on
the counter, when my mind should be focused on more serious
matters? Did this compulsion or need in me come from my
mother? The same mother who used to slap me if i didn't
place an ashtray "just so" on the table. And
heaven only help me if it was the wrong one, or the wrong
colour.
It might have stemmed
from her attitudes i suppose. But i think these compulsions
stay with me because it is part of my personality as well.
After all these years of living on my own (sans mother i mean), i
have continued to be hmmmm.. picky (am i?)... about where things
around me are placed. And unable to feel comfortable until
they are in their allotted spots. Then i answer my
rebellious streak and watch it all get messy again.
Even though mess makes me antsy.
Do i sound confused
yet? :)
shadoe |
