Spring housecleaning has prompted me to “find my dream.” My husband says it’s more like “living with Lucy.” Remember Lucy and Ethel’s hair-brain idea to show their husbands up by working at the chocolate factory — only to find the assembly line a bit speedier than they figured. Or Lucy’s scheme to become a star by landing the role of a showgirl, but is demoted to a murdered corpse on a stretcher. Or the most humorous, when again seeking her dream of recognition, she sneaks on as spokeswoman for the 23% alcohol cure-all tonic Vitameatavegamin.
Every night I come home with a different idea, to leave my good, but same o’, same o’ nine-to-five job for a life of greater pleasure. One tape I listened to urged me to think about what made me happy. Living in pajamas and eating bonbons all day makes me happy. Fact is ice cream cheers up everyone. Ever seen a frown on the face of kid licking a cone? I think not. Fat, thin or lactose intolerant. While the ice cream is going down, there are no worries about weight gain, stomach aches or gorilla war. So for a few days, probably like a week ago, I was going to start an ice cream business. Sundaes topped with crushed homemade cookies. I’d call it That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles. Seems you actually needed more than a gimmick — cash, lots of it, a storefront, and a recipe. I thought about peddling one of those little freezer bikes with a bell on the handlebars, but I’d eat the leftovers and never make it up the hills.
Then my career coach said to list all the things I could do really well. Nagging, whining, and worrying topped my list. However, they are not as marketable as I had hoped. My husband said, “You’re a laugh a minute,” so I called a local comedy shop to sign up for open mic night. Drat, I found out I have trouble staying awake past 9 p.m. at night and building a whole routine on driving from Chicago to Wisconsin just because I thought saying Sheboygan in public would be funny, wasn’t.
Then there were the suckers. The GAP, the daughter who thinks she’s a gifted American princess, had received the cutest gift from her then-boyfriend. A bouquet of orange lollipops in a clay pot with a snapshot of him inside each candy shape. I was sure these arrangements would be big sellers. So I purchased molds, a candy thermometer, and edible paper for photographs transfers. (When you no longer liked the person sending the gift, you could devour the evidence.) Packaging might be a little difficult, but nonetheless, the samples I made up were eye-catching. The only problem — within a short time, the homemade suckers developed a fog that obscured the photograph.
Another self-help book I read said to “look back” to what you enjoyed as a kid — lists, ice cream, organizing my rock collection, and parakeets. I didn’t know how to combine these hobbies. Maybe a store called Tweet Sweets & Neat Peats that sells bird-shaped ice cream cones and really cool rocks.
I like writing and laughing. I don’t stay focused for too long. Hmm, let’s see. I think I’ll try blogging. Oh, did I mention I can work in my pajamas? Love at first post.
Find your own dream. Lucy may have settled down had she known about blogging.
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