A typical day in my high-paying corporate job: showed up at 8. I worked until about 8:45. I then cut my coupons, updated my Facebook page, sent emails to all my girlfriends, went to lunch. . .worked for another hour or so. . .played on Pinterest, made lists of errands and household chores, called my mom and then left at 5. There were periods of insanity - working 60-70 hours/week - but there were always the extended "down times" between.
To some people, dream job. To me, boredom is the devil. I fight with Brandon more. I become obsessive about stupid details. I am a general nutball. Even more so than normal.
So, I changed careers. I now work for a tiny construction company and I don't have time to breathe, much less tweet about the latest smut gossip. I got what I wanted. Boredom is a loooong lost ideal. Now I spend a lot more on groceries and I haven't had a single spare minute to plan my year-long sailing trip, but overall I am happier.
So what is better? The feast or the famine.
I'm sure there is a middle ground. And since Brandon is a total workaholic and will go days without spending any significant amount of time at home, I need to find it for the sake of this family.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
How we came to be.
I guess I should give a little background on our "story". Let me step back and introduce myself:
I'm Jenn. 26 years old. I work in Construction. And those who know me are shocked.
I'm married to Brandon. 36 years old (cradle-robber). Real-estate attorney and entrepreneur.
Our daughter is Dylan. Named after Bob Dylan (yeah, I lost that argument). 2 years old. Crazy cute and sassy as hell.
When Brandon and I met it was not love at first sight. I thought he was a big nerd (which he is) and he thought I was young and flighty (which I was). Neither of us was in any hurry to jump into anything serious.
But after a few short months of him "throwing some game" my way, we exchanged a libation-induced New Years Eve kiss that changed our lives.
Apparently he was a darn good kisser. And from that developed a real, honest-to-God relationship. A pretty damn incredible relationship, too.
Fast forward one year and that "can't keep our hands to ourselves" chemistry produced a baby. (who knew.) After a crazy, throw-stilettos-at-the-walls, hormonal 9 months, out popped a little girl that changed our lives all over again.
And now here we are. Loving this crazy life that we almost didn't have.
I'm Jenn. 26 years old. I work in Construction. And those who know me are shocked.
I'm married to Brandon. 36 years old (cradle-robber). Real-estate attorney and entrepreneur.
Our daughter is Dylan. Named after Bob Dylan (yeah, I lost that argument). 2 years old. Crazy cute and sassy as hell.
When Brandon and I met it was not love at first sight. I thought he was a big nerd (which he is) and he thought I was young and flighty (which I was). Neither of us was in any hurry to jump into anything serious.
But after a few short months of him "throwing some game" my way, we exchanged a libation-induced New Years Eve kiss that changed our lives.
Apparently he was a darn good kisser. And from that developed a real, honest-to-God relationship. A pretty damn incredible relationship, too.
Fast forward one year and that "can't keep our hands to ourselves" chemistry produced a baby. (who knew.) After a crazy, throw-stilettos-at-the-walls, hormonal 9 months, out popped a little girl that changed our lives all over again.
And now here we are. Loving this crazy life that we almost didn't have.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
culinary genius i am not.
So it is hysterical that I'm going to even discuss food as I am not a chef. Regardless of the fact that I demanded a gourmet kitchen when we built our house (it's sooo pretty), I am not using much more than the microwave on a regular basis.
But I want to share a recipe that is time-consuming but otherwise very easy to make. Brandon loves the hell out of it and I like to prepare it when I'm in a domestic mood.
Taco-filled Pasta Shells:
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