I want to be Snuffy when I grow up.

Aloysius Snuffleupagus

Have you ever looked at your life, I mean really looked at your life, and thought, "How the hell did I get here?"
With the Spring comes re-birth and awakenings. And I'm not sure how I got here.
Six years ago I was the most career-oriented person I knew. Six years ago I worked for 364 days straight and didn't think twice about it until my boss made me take a day off. I had a few friends that were fun to have around; in my spare time all I did was party.
Now, I'm married, and a stay-at-home writer -although the latter is to be debated. I write, but have never published anything. I do still party and am pretty sure 'fun!' will never leave me.
Really, it's all I have that makes me Me. I enjoy people, I can make them laugh (I can make myself laugh, too, but that's not really a talent), and I can be serious when the occasion calls. Usually I can be serious; if somebody falls or farts, I will laugh.
The Mister works a job he loves; he is amazing and talented and I am the luckiest girl in the world because he picked me. And I don't want to let him down.
I stay home and write stories. I keep the house super tidy, but I hate to clean. Cleaning used to be release for me, now it's something I dread with clenched fists waving in my yellow rubber gloves.
Technically you could call me a housewife because I have no actual income. Better yet, let’s whip out the term “homemaker” –ouch. Frankly, I have a life that many people would give their left arm for. We are financially good and although we’d love to have a house, we won’t risk debt by leaving our apartment.
I feel as if I hold us back.
Because of that, there’s no way The Mister could be pleased with me; aside from the entertainment factor I provide. I haven’t actually published anything and I’m at a point where I’m not so sure I should try. (So many reasons. I won’t go into it here.)
In the meantime, I'm not going to worry about where I went wrong, but rather, how do I fix this? The biggest problem is I don't know what I want. In so many ways I'm happy with my self and my life, but I cannot figure out what I want to do. Or how to not become a disappointment.
It's the "What do I want to be when I grow up?" question and it seems I've found myself in a Grown-Up life without answering the question.
Sesame Street prepared me for many things, but not this.
For the love of god, Big Bird what do I do??

*******************

I originally wrote this post over a week ago but never published it. Tonight, The Mister and I were having dinner when he surprised me by saying, "It's okay with me if you're a homemaker."

Out of fucking nowhere. It makes me feel better by knowing we still have a wonderful connection and The Mister really knows my heart. It also takes a bit of stress off my shoulders; however I've a pretty good suspicion the only stress I had was put there by me.

I'm just not so sure how I feel about being a Homemaker. I won't stop writing, but do I have to wear an apron?

After our conversation, I let The Mister read this. He said I should publish it simply for the fact so many people are in the same boat. So here it is.