The Hobby Girl

I always thought that once I finished school, I would bask in the freedom of unscheduled time. It has now been 10 months since I graduated college and I am ready to climb the walls from boredom. I don’t understand what people do all day long when they aren’t consistently in crisis mode. Standard operating procedures for me consist of working my tail off towards a goal between the hours of 4 A.M. to 8 P.M. —that’s 16 hours of non-stop awake time doing something. Now, I really don’t have to get out of bed until 5:30(ish) and after work, I am free until I decide it’s time to go to bed.

So, to alleviate this I have taken up hobbies. Lots of hobbies. My husband didn’t like when I was in school due to the amount of time I spent holed up in our home office. Now, he doesn’t like that I am out of school due to my opinions on television shows, endless amounts of craft supplies, and constant chatter. In the past ten months:

• I have written a book
• Edited a second book
• Started authoring a third book
• Started this blog you’re reading right now!
• Knitted 4 scarves, one blanket, and one semi-done purse
• Scrapbooked the past 15 years of my life
• Read 40 books
• Narrated 5 movies (for my Husband)
• Drank 18 gallons of wine
• Colored my hair 3 times
• Ran 3 races (93.59 miles)
• Quit smoking

Still, in all of the obsessive compulsive activities; I haven’t found my calm sense of belonging. I wonder when that part of my life kicks in?

My family is always supportive of me and my husband is too—only he understands that I am also mentally insane. When I decided to start knitting, I turned to YouTube for instructions. Now, I own half the inventory from JoAnn’s Fabrics yarn section. Each time I start a new project, he peers at the yarn on my needles in horror. He knows there will come a day when he unwraps a much anticipated gift only to realize that in the wake of my insanity, I have knitted him a sweater—with one arm longer than the other—and I will expect him to wear it.

The other hobbies he can pretty much ignore. At least, he can ignore them until I have filled all the extra storage spaces in our house with craft supplies, glue, glitter, wine corks, shoes, etc. I would really feel sorry for him, except for the fact that he really likes to clean. He cleans up after me and our daughter often. In my mind, I rationalize that my obsession with hobbies leads to a happier life for him where he can clean. And as they say:

A clean house is a happy house.

(or do they really even say that?)