I Do What I Want

Admit it, you've had that dream too.  You know the one.  The one where you answer only to yourself.  The one where "the Man" doesn't tell YOU what to do.  The one where you set your own hours and do your own thing: working for yourself.

I've had that dream as long as I can remember.  I wanted to open my own cookie shop.  I mean, I make cookies.  And they're damned delicious.  But I've had every excuse in the book: I don't have the money.  I need to do research.  I need to test out shipping.  I have shin splints.  Whatever the reason, I fed it to myself as a reason to not go out and do....until now.

And, granted, it's not cookies.  But it's mine just the same.  When I stepped away from the working world in October for personal ethical reasons; or as my husband likes to call it, "Whoa!  Didn't they know you don't like people to play in your sandbox?"  I was sitting at home with my dog and crocheting. 

I had this brilliant idea that I could make baby blankets.  And why not?  I'm good at it.  I'm creative.  I have time on my hands, and it'll be mine.  All mine.  And I'll call him George, Baby George.  Wait, no...that was Bugs Bunny.  Whew, I've been watching WAY too much TV while I do this.  Anywho, I figured, I could do what I love in between the moments of life that weren't taking my breath away and sell these little suckers on Etsy and hopefully make back enough money to keep me in yarn.

I conned my bestest into making me a logo.  I mean, what's the good in having an Illustrator for a best friend if you can't poach her services?  And that's what she did.  She made me a logo.  See?

Then I set about working.  I've got seven blankets to show for my time out of the "working world" and I've got two more in the works.  I'm working on their write ups, as I have a specific vision.  I'm not sure if it'll get me places or sales, but a girl can try.  I figure I'll do those smart-assed write ups that I was so good at when I ran a social committee for years and years.  And then maybe they're not just buying a boring old baby blanket, but a sassy side piece as well.

The point of all this is: I'm scared.  It's a smaller-ish scared though.  If I fail, I'll only be out about $200 start up capital, but I'm more afraid my pride will be crushed because it's oh-so hard to believe in yourself and follow through.  But yesterday, when the cards were on the table and I'd promised enough people and I had run out of excuses - no one was falling for that shin splint thing again - I did it.  I opened my first shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/CathyCreatesStuff

Check me out.  Pass me along.  Let me know if you're ever in need of a baby blanket, or if you want an afghan, we can work something out.  And maybe pray for me, or send good vibes out there...or whatever it is that you do - I'll take any kind - because I feel like I'm going to throw up.  I mean, I have nothing to lose; and my seat belt is buckled, my chair is in its full & upright position and my tray table is stored and locked.  I'm off!