I have no idea what color my parachute is.

I love being home with the kids, that's a given. I am very lucky. However, my "career" is on hold, which I've gone back and forth about since day one. What is difficult, is that all I have to do is turn on the television, and see where I used to work. It's a constant reminder of what I used to do, and makes me think that I need to figure out what I'm going to be, when the time comes.

The newspaper I worked at is in the same building as a cable news channel. I loved my old job. I did well, and worked with a great group of people, many of whom I am still in contact with. You never knew who you would see in the lobby. Or on the elevator. Or in Au Bon Pain. I know that Shepard Smith eats at Wendy's, and that Geraldo Rivera's skin is orange. I miss that life, especially when I watch Megyn Kelly while cleaning up after breakfast.

So what does this mean? Do I miss working in media? Or sales? I'm really enjoying blogging, it's given order to my thoughts (other than this past Sunday night). I've always liked writing. I'm thinking back to when I was a teen, and wrote stories for my friends about boys they liked, or poems about high school angst. I have journals and diaries stacked on a shelf in my bedroom. My very close friend J told me I need to just sit down every day and write, something, anything. I sent her a snippet of my writing, she's a writer and editor (once you are, you always are J) and I'm excited about what she had to say. So I'm starting a new habit, writing a bit once a day, and we'll see what happens.