i’m not a thug, i’m a housewife??


Was trying to con this “thug” into breakfast? This is my life.

It’s Saturday morning and I’m taking a quick moment to just breathe. On the agenda today is sewing, sewing, and more sewing – with possible trips to my local quilt shop, CityCraft, and JoAnn’s.

Last night, I had a moment. Oh yes, a moment. This past week was eventful (stressful) with work, school, and the detox fail – an opportunity to get away (drunk) arose. To go out and be my old jovial self without a worry in the world and drowning the week in booze.

I went home and I was fine with that. Back in 2008 or 2009 – I don’t think there was a weekend that I ever spent in the house – different circumstances and a different age. Don’t get me wrong – I can still hang with the best of them. 

Now my priorities have changed. I work a full time job that I see my office, more than my own house. My classes for my MSAC are no joke and consume every brain cell that I have to logically examine theories of criminology in vast detail. I’m a member of the Dallas Modern Quilt Guild and Sew Modern Dallas Chicks. I enjoy sewing and drinking a glass of wine at my house.

I’m not a thug. Far from it. Am I a housewife? No, not at all.

What am I? Perfectly alright. My Friday night was exactly what I wanted it to be. What I needed! A quiet moment for Indigo LaRue and myself to just sew the night away. No worries. No assignments. No work. Just a lady and her sewing machine. My ideal Friday night.

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