I re-learned today that my brain is double-sided in both pain and beauty, that I can trust the decisions I make regarding my photography, that I made the right decision in selling the gear I sold in June, that I kept the lens I love the most. That my current gear matches the way that I see the world and that I like it that way. That my eyes see beautiful things and that the grief and pain that is inevitable in my daily life is indeed not the full story.
I learned that nature photography is beautiful with a normal-telephoto lens, that time with my husband is sacred, that I married the wisest person I’ve ever met in my whole life.
I came home a little more sure of myself, a lot steadier on my feet, and remembering that there is good with the bad.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
Sometimes, that’s how I wake up.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
I had a great time during our chat as well; the time really went by too fast! I did have a good visit with my grandparents; though I’ve only lived an hour or so away for most of my life, they love having me ten minutes down the road, and I go several times a week to have dinner with them.
I look forward to hearing anything you’re willing to share about Jerusalem .I think the most intriguing thing I’ve heard from other people is visiting the Western Wall; the social dynamics of how strict they are about keeping the men and women separate fascinate me. But I’ve only heard the Jewish perspective on that; How does it work with the other faiths?
My absolute favorite song in the entire world is Josh Groban and Charlotte Church’s version of “The Prayer”… :) Their voices make an incredible combination.
Well, I’m calling it a short day at work today; during the week I do data entry, and I just can’t stare at the computer screen to edit our database anymore! It’s pretty deserted because lots of people are still on vacation. I love my job and the fact that it’s a flexible schedule, but the downside to that is that sometimes there’s little motivation to make myself stay all day!
You know, I abandoned my Yahoo email account probably about 2007, maybe earlier than that. I’ve long wondered what fragments of thoughts might be hanging out in those old archives.
But I don’t wonder enough to hunt down wherever Yahoo data breaches have ended up to see if anyone was willing to fish around for it for me.
Not that interesting.
And anyway, I have a sizable amount of my old emails printed out. For instance, the one quoted above that I sent my now husband.
But, I figure someone out there has access to my old cosettecie@yahoo.com archives, because someone in China pinged my Google Analytics yesterday with the precise time stamp as if they were trying to access a post like this on my blog.
So since someone was so interested, or maybe even had read it already: here it is for the rest of the world.
There’s other interesting tidbits in my Google Analytics; lots of nonsensical links that would naturally take someone to the search field on my 404 page. Which is why my 404 page is now customized with a photo of myself in my ex Chris’s foyer, holding Muffin, the cat that I gave him at some point in probably early 2003 after she nearly destroyed some very sentimental family items and scraped up my face and hands with a scar that I still have on my left hand, in fact.
And, actually, someone or some bot simultaneously from Coshocton, Ohio, and Lake City, Florida, looked for /7-July-2003/ on my blog earlier today, as well. In fact, the Lake City, Florida visitor remained on my 404 page for three minutes and three seconds.
So, whoever you are, if you have access to my old cosettecie@yahoo.com archives, good for you. I’m sure there’s a lot of heartache and happiness and just general drama around in those old archives, as that was one of my college emails. I feel really bad for you if you are stuck sorting through that melodrama on behalf of anyone.
While you’re at it, you might as well hunt down my old Hotmail archives as well, I’m sure caroline_gsu@hotmail.com archives would be a read of melodramatic young adult drama, as well.
I made a reflective guided journal. I set out the specific parameters in both Gemini and Google AI Studio and between the two of them, I came up with quarterly segments filled with weekly goals, and daily prompts.
I made it for myself primarily, with the goal of maybe sharing it with the wider world.
It’s going to take some time to format though; while I have the content, I have a specific way I want that content formatted and there is no easy way to handle that in a bulk way into Canva, which is what I am using for the formatting.
I am very, very, happy with the content, though. It’s something I would use, I think it will be both fun and uplifting. I’m impatient to get it done but realistically, it will likely not be done by January 1.
Time is not really relevant however; the journal is not formatted to be time-dependent.
I was inspired to make a reflective, guided journal primarily as a self-help tool for myself, to help get myself through the year in an even-keel sort of temperament while also setting new goals. Gemini helped me set out parameters that allow the journal to be helpful without dispensing psychiatric or medical advice.
I hadn’t really intended to come up with a whole product, except that I wanted something pretty for myself.
So, caroline price luxe: intentional living guided journal is on the way.
I have been on a rampage the last few months, trying to optimize our family budget as best we can.
First, it started last May, when I closed my original photography business. I sold my second Fujifilm GF50sII body, and 4 of my GF lenses when I no longer needed them for business purposes. I did purchase a Fuji X-S20 with its kit lens so that I would have a second camera, but we still cleared a significant amount with the transactions.
At the same time, I made a commitment, both internally to myself and also to my husband, to be entirely mindful of all of my spending. Historically, mindless spending when I am depressed or anxious has been a problem.
Between May and September, that was the primary focus of my energy.
In September, I decided we were done with the credit card rollercoaster. We’d previously had a personal loan that had a higher than optimal interest rate, at 11.25%, and we also had some minor credit card debt. We were offered and secured a different personal loan with a 7.99% interest rate, and rolled the minor credit card debt and the original personal loan into this 7.99% fixed personal loan.
At some point in October or November, I called and asked about better deals for our internet only at home– we don’t have a home phone or cable service, we pay for internet only. I lowered our monthly bill from $79.99 to $65 and at the same time, I also secured us a better tier of service.
Grocery-wise, we primarily shop at Aldi, Walmart, and Costco, with the bulk of our groceries coming from Costco. I have started paying attention to what is on sale weekly at Costco, and buying in bulk where it makes sense to do so. That has made a difference since I began doing this in October– last month we spent $400 less than the month prior, and we are on track to do the same thing this month as well.
Then in early November, I started wondering if we could refinance our second mortgage…..its interest rate was secured when our credit was not as good, and its interest rate was 10.36%. At the same time, we had a home improvement loan for crawlspace encapsulation that was not only a 9.99% loan, it was a 15-year loan with 13.5 years left. So I looked around, and I found us a 7.625% second mortgage to roll the original second mortgage plus the home improvement loan into, and it is a 10-year term. We will save $14,000 over the life of the loan over what we were paying on the original two loans. (Our primary mortgage rate is 2.875% and thankfully the second mortgage is very minor by comparison).
In deciding to open a new luxury photography business, I had to be extremely strategic in which expenses were non-negotiable. Ultimately, the LLC and occupational tax certificates were an “of course.” I also ensured my state sales and use tax certificate was put in place, and I re-opened a business checking account with Bluevine that has no monthly service fee at all. And finally, I secured a great deal on fairly comprehensive business insurance with Full Frame Insurance. The beautiful thing for my budget is that the photography gear I already had– and the fact that my primary Cinelux lens works on both of my existing cameras– is all I need to create beautiful luxury portraits.
And finally, in this last week, I have managed to secure loyalty discounts and upgrades of 3 of the 4 phone devices in our household such that the upgrade cost us $174.30 in taxes, but I got upgrade and trade in fees waived, new devices included with payment of the plans, and payoff on my old phone all included. And with the loyalty discount in place that I was offered, our monthly phone bill for 4 lines will go down from $238 a month to $137 a month.
So now, our highest interest rate on debt at all is 7.99% across all debt, and it truly does feel like our budget is as optimized as possible, given the circumstances we have created for ourselves.
And as I make a renewed commitment to my artistic photography, all of this budget optimization frees up considerable brain space for concentration on what I truly love: my art.
