Just in case you have been following my book blog for awhile, you may have noticed a slowing of my reading. I am ready to come clean with a serious problem I have. Maybe, if I share my journey, more of you will bravely come forward, and admit your own weaknesses. Or, you'll just call me crazy.
So, let's get that part out in the open. I am crazy. Not quite certifiable but definitely not normal. Whatever normal is. So sit down for a minute and let me introduce myself to you properly. My name is Nancy. I am a suburban housewife. I am a mother of four children. I am school counselor. I am a wife. I am a reader. Those are the basics, although I could certainly add more to this list. I have a Master's degree in educational psychology. Surprisingly, this has not made me a stellar mother. Stunned me, too. When stressed out, I fall back on my old coping mechanisms. Therapy? Pharmaceuticals? Healthy lifestyle? All no.
I start a new hobby.
Generally speaking, I erroneously believe it is cheaper than therapy. My mind is occupied with learning things I know so very little about so my life stressor is pushed comfortably into a mental closet, seeping out only a little at a time and, theoretically, I live through a highly anxious time and have something to show for it; a book blog, a beautiful garden (fertilized with llama poo - the best fertilizer, dancing live with other mothers on stage, etc.).
So early this Spring I had another life changing event. My identity was about to change. I was getting a job transfer. I was changing from a high school counselor at the alternative school, one I felt comfortable doing, to being a junior high counselor in a different town.
So I got chickens.
Things were going so well. They were brooding in the garage under a heat lamp, growing feathers and being cute. Ten days before they were to be transferred to a failed eagle scout project coop, my stupid dog realized her true calling. She upset the box, chased them, tracked them, and proudly brought me their remains, wagging her happy Labrador tail.
I said bad words and lost a little bit more of my sanity. I saved one slobber covered chicken and watched her slip into a deep depression. So I pulled her out of her depression by giving her three new sisters, against my husband's better judgment.
For Mother's Day I got a $300 dog collar that shocks said dog when she leaves a set perimeter.
Last month I had my custom built chicken coop and run delivered to my house.
Long story short, my chicken hobby has taken a lot more time than I had anticipated. Not to mention, when the first egg is finally laid, it will have cost somewhere between $800 - $1000.
Bottom line - I should have tried Prozac.