I Need a Hobby

For years, I've tried to live by the mantra "Bloom Where You Are Planted," and it's served me well until now. I'm trying to bloom, damnit! I'm trying, but I'm just not. Could be the perpetual winter...

I never understood wives who complained when we lived in Hawaii. Believe it or not, people HATED it there. H-A-T-E-D. While I always thought there was no better to place to be brought and then left behind (by your husband who went to war). I made friends, I worked, I volunteered, I scrap booked, I ran into people I knew nearly everywhere I went, I just generally did whatever I wanted and had fun doing it.

And now... I don't work because I chose to stay home with my kiddo. I don't have any new friends really, because turns out, it's pretty hard to make friends when you don't work, you don't have the Army to lean on, and the guys in your husbands office aren't really married. I don't volunteer because I can't justify hiring a babysitter to go do it (though I'm getting closer and closer to biting the bullet), and I can't do whatever I want because of the kid thing and the fact that we're pretty much in the middle of no where and it's colder than well diggers mud bucket outside. I'm worried I'm retreating into a shell. But more than that, I want to be really, really excited about something.

So I need a hobby. Here's what though, I'm not creative, I'm not crafty and I'm not patient. And I don't want a hobby that ends up causing just another mess to clean up. So seriously, I'm left with writing. Which is fine, but I am rapidly running out of things to write about because I don't really do anything. I wish I had a stellar idea for a novel.

A few years ago, a close friend of Erik's told me that most stay at home moms are "monumentally uninteresting," and he couldn't be more right. Of course, he's a bartender, the epitome of interesting, so he'd know. He made me promise not to become such a woman, and I fear that I am.

So, I'm in the market for a hobby. If you have one you like, send it my way.