I've tried to write this post a few times without much success.. it seems there isn't a way to lay it out without sounding like a wet rag or homeless puppy… but it is the middle of the summer and vacation is what everyone is doing or thinking about — add on top the recession and we have stone soup. The result of this has taught me a great deal about myself, which is good should I ever find myself in a padded room laughing hysterically at nothing.

From a professional standpoint I have seen much better days. I would say that things have been slow — but that would mean that there should be something dripping from the faucet. I should feel comforted by the fact that none of this is my fault — All of it is due to those pesky circumstances beyond my control — but I can only compare "these days" with a perpetual itch in the unreachable middle of my back.

A brief time line:

This time last year – Breakwater had a busy busy staff of four — counting myself. We had just relocated to Main Street, projects were flowing and I was looking to hire more designers. 

October 08 – the work began to dwindle. Our national accounts started closing their doors. Then local clients started pulling plugs.

December 08 – I cried (and still tear-up about) when I let my last designer, Patrick, go.

May 09 – I cringed when we moved the office into a smaller space.

I go over it and over again trying to figure out how I could have done things differently.

Between May 09 and now… I dive into every project that comes my way with embarrassing energy… like I haven't designed in years. Hungry — the results are very rewarding, but the work continues to come in drips and drabs… and then.. my insanity switch goes off —

• I behave erratically when dollar amounts plunge. I decide to sign up to sell Avon products on the side (ha ha – in the Hamptons) — only to have my husband remind me that I am still applying makeup on myself that I bought before we met.
• I apply for an advertising sales job with a "positive energy" online search engine… only to realize that I couldn't sell bananas to a monkey.
• I am offered a writing job — only to have my first draft thrown back in my face for grammatical errors.. Apparently I am not good at writing in the 3rd or 2nd persons (and I'm okay with that).
• I start contributing to a few other blogs with some success… but it's only to take up the time in the day that I could be designing something.
• I talk to others in similar situations.. everyone seems to be vibrating around looking to collaborate on something.. anything.
• I realize that I need to create. So I cut-up Will's old pjs to make something…The sewing machine thread-thingamajig still lays murdered in the basement on the "I am going to SEW, dammit" once was for drafting but is now a craft table. Designing, yes – Crafts, no.
• I pace around.. checking my iphone every few minutes – Is anyone doing anything? Maybe I should go into real estate or win the lottery or write a childrens book or… "Whoever he is he's too late… SEE — THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY!!"

None of this is right. And those of you that know me know this. It took a family getaway to grasp reality — a strong, "Ry, you're a designer" from my Dad to come back down. And so I digress… I put away the makeup wearing positive advertising real estate mogul craft guru lottery winner dreams and am seeking out the calm… concentrating on what I do have to do and doing it right… And if this plan fails… I'll convince the crew, depart the ship and join the Dread Pirate Roberts in retired in splendor.