Things are getting better. I think.

Transitioning jobs has been an emotional and physical roller coaster. I love being outside on the river, but loading and unloading those giant yellow rubber boats is hard on my shoulders and elbows. Right now, I’m only qualified to guide on the lower part of the Pigeon River – nothing over a class II rapid. Still, it’s hard as heck for me.

My boat control is pretty bad, especially if I have a boat full of unhelpful paddlers or too much weight. There’s so much to figure out when guiding guests down the river, and of course, I’m learning it all the hard way – because that’s just what I do.

But I’m not going to quit. I may never do it again after this season, but I’m pretty sure I can make it another month and a half, as long as my body holds up.

I’ve been spending more time doing things I actually want to do, like teaching myself how to whittle. Whittle is one of the funnest words to say. Seriously, try it. It makes you smile whether you wanted to or not. Whittle a little whittle, would ya?

Since woodworking runs in my family, I was hoping I’d have some sort of hidden superpower that non-woodworkers don’t. But alas, my skills have proven to be archaic at best. Still, I’ll keep trying. Whittling quiets my mind, it’s pretty inexpensive, and it makes me feel productive even when I’m sitting still.

I’m also looking into kayaking classes. Even if rafting doesn’t work out long term, I’ve definitely learned I love being on the water. I just want to be safe about it – I’m too young to drown. Drowning has to be one of the worst ways to die, right up there with burning to death or being eaten by fire ants.

While I still feel a little lost in life’s chaos, I know quitting the shelter was the right decision. The constant stress that once consumed me has been replaced with reflection, time for myself, and space to figure out who I really am.

It helps to have the most supportive husband. My not working doesn’t hit us super hard financially, but it’s still a loss of income in a time when everything seems to cost more every damn day. We’re finding ways to cut back – canceling subscriptions we don’t need, making our own bread and sprouts, cooking at home instead of eating out. It’s so easy to become mass consumers when we live in a world where you can think of something, order it, and it’s on your doorstep in two days. (I still haven’t tried on my unicorn horn, but I knew I had to have it.)

Dennis enjoys his job but is looking forward to retirement. We have a plan to get him out of the workforce in the next seven years. Neither of us wants to work ourselves into the grave, dying of a stress-induced heart attack at 68, the year after we finally “retire.” It’s not worth it. We’d rather cut back now and coast through our golden years instead of grinding through them.

The moral of this blog post? Don’t worry about shit – everything works out.

When I get yelled at or confronted, I take it personally. I always have. My mind goes into overdrive, creating dramatic scenarios about how I’ve ruined everything and the person hates me forever. In reality, they probably didn’t think about it again.

Does anyone else do this?

This rafting gig is teaching me to have thicker skin. All I can do is my best. And if that’s not good enough for you, buttercup, then all I can do is apologize sweetly and say, “Bless your heart,” because we all know what that really means in the South.

I’m writing this on my break. I’ve got a trip going down at 1:30. I hope they’re nice people, and I hope my coworkers aren’t too hung over today.

Did you know Mozart wrote “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”? Why didn’t I know that?

Anyway. Have a peaceful day and a heart full of love.