Disappointed

I didn't realize how much I enjoyed my vacation until right now.  I mean, I knew I liked being off work, but this is different.  I'm sitting here at work and I'm aching to be home.  The hourly cuddle with one of the dogs.  Sitting in my super wide, kinda comfy chair watching Rockford Files on Netflix.  But most of all, I was being creative.  I was surrounded by the material things that make me the happiest.  Six projects going at once and no interruptions.  I didn't leave the house most of those days.  And laundry was done just so I could have clean pajamas to change into. 

Now?  I'm a drill sergeant once again.  I'm not happy.  I haven't smiled since yesterday.  I'm counting the minutes until a break so I can crochet for a bit.  But I can't relax because there is a child outside my classroom kicking my door.  Each stitch is accompanied by a kick.  The radio is on, but it is not soothing.  I'm disappointed.  I'm sad.  I'm conflicted.  I'm something.  I can't quite explain it. 

Perhaps what I am at that point in the Robert Frost poem where I'm supposed to take the less traveled road.  But fear keeps me here.  Fear of going broke--again.  Fear of losing everything.  Fear of the unknown.  Greed for material things that got me to that point where I have to continue working in a field I HATE.  Perhaps this is the year I go for it.  It really isn't, but the hope gives me something to work towards.  I'm trying like hell to get out of debt.  My goal was debt free by 40.  Well well well, that won't work.  So now it is Debt free by 43.  That I can do.  I'm sure of it.  Then I can cut back and perhaps take a job I love instead of one that I'm tied to.  Or maybe actually start that yarn store....