Emerging from a dream...

Well. Waking from a dream is sometimes a relief, and sometimes a nightmare.

I'm a 40-something ( a lady never tells her precise age!) married mom to two boys, ages 12 and 8, both of whom have Asperger's syndrome.

As you might imagine, this makes life interesting. Every day.  If the younger boy isn't screaming at the top of his voice and making the dog scramble comically all over the tile looking for a hiding place, then the elder one is talking nonstop in my ear about a movie he saw two weeks ago and wants to relate to me frame by frame from start to finish. A day in the Dreamer household is never dull with these two bright-eyed inquisitive children.

Last week it became even more exciting when I and nearly all my co-workers were laid off from our jobs. We had just about a day or so of notice, most of us, although some may have suspected a bit earlier. It was not a pleasant afternoon although the weather was nice, sparing us the need to carry our boxes of desk ornamentation and personal documents through a deluge. I appear to be quite a collector of plastic bags; I had about six inches of them carpeting the bottom of my file cabinet. Some day I'll figure out something crafty to do with them.

I allowed myself to mourn my job for a few days, and tortured myself by surfing the job websites finding nothing that fit me or for which I was remotely qualified. The job I had was what I wanted and loved; it really was my dream job. Even though I was laid off and not fired, I still had that confidence loss and sense of guilt (If I had only done something...), and that hasn't completely gone away, rearing its head at the most inopportune times.

I know it will pass, and I'll find something to do, but I'm fearing it won't be as creative or just plain fun as my old job. Hence, a blog, something I'd been thinking about for a while but never started, for one reason or another. Creative, fun (I hope), and potentially enjoyable. I already like the fact I can switch around the look, font, and colors on a whim. I'm a big fan of variety and choices. (Fonts? Who surfs fonts for hours?...That'd be me.)

At least the only one that can let me go from my blog is me.

Excuse me now while I go steal a Spring Oreo before my boys eat them all.