a diary of a creative working a 8-5
Well, here I am. 26, in a decent career. I live a comfortable life in a beautiful home. In my dream city. Married. And feeling grateful for all that I have. But something is missing. Something has always been missing. The older I get, the shorter life becomes, but somehow the days drag on. A week feels like a blur of days I can’t even decipher between. What day is it? Thursday. 2 more days until Saturday, and then when Sunday comes it’s a ticking time bomb before the week will start all over, and I won’t even remember how I got back to Saturday again.
This is a cycle I think most of the working population knows so closely. But this is the life you wanted! Look at all you have! You’re right. I have that super cool espresso machine that I along with everyone else bought, and yes I do have a nugget ice maker and can make anyone a legit dirty Dr. Pepper with “Sonic ice”. I live a comfortable life, and the perfectly made-at-home latte on the daily does make me feel like I’ve made it. I think I’ve reached a point in life where I can truly understand when they say, “It’s the little things in life”. Because it really is. It’s the bird saying hello at the window, the cloud passing by, the way you notice the flowers starting to bloom in the beginning of spring. There is so much outside of materialistic things, to feel grateful for — and believe me I relish in each passing moment.
So I sit here, and I feel the weight of the past week just beneath my shoulders. It’s Saturday. A day I can do whatever I want with, and still have just one more day before I forget where I am. So, I look. I look for the things in life that make life feel still. The bird saying hello at my window, the cloud passing over my kitchen skylight, and the cherry blossoms in my front yard that continue to open with each passing Saturday. Somehow through all the gratitude, is pain. Pain in knowing that time is passing, but just wanting so deeply for it to stand still. I reflect on a younger version of myself. A version that time was afraid of. There once was a girl who outran time, who beat it out the door before the clock even had a chance to start ticking
While in high school, I devoted every ounce of my free time to creativity. Photography mostly. Every weekend, every sunset and sunrise I was out in a field with a friend or two dressing up and taking way too many photos. I would come home, edit until I slept, wake up and go to school, and sometimes take photos on my lunch hour and crave to do it all over again. My soul constantly jumped at any sliver of time I had to take photos. If I wasn’t taking photos, I was painting, or writing. But never did I feel hesitation in doing the things I loved. If anything, they were on the forefront of my mind— always. Once, I had fallen into a poison oak bush and within a few days had an enormous rash all over my face. Did this stop me from planning a whole weekend of photo taking? Absolutely not. Did I look and feel like shit. Absolutely. Do I miss her? More than ever.
July of 2016 in that damn field, probably 5 SD cards deep.
I’ve lived a calculated life thus far, always trying to position myself in a way where I’m not trapped. Ironically, I think I’ve trapped myself. I’ve worked so hard to get where I want to be in life, and yet haven’t truly picked up my camera in years. The one thing I swore I couldn’t live without, and would lug with me quite literally everywhere. My entire essay that got me accepted into the University of Oregon, was written about my love for photography. What the hell happened?
Between the waves of emails, the long list of to-do’s and constant projects and deadlines. I think I need to post a “Missing” sign with a photo of 17-year old me holding a camera, and dreaming of the life I currently live. If only she knew, 11 years later I wish I could just be her. Naive. Unafraid to say the thing, and say it wrong. Unafraid of staying up late, and being groggy the next day. Full of energy, and loathing for a good project but one that was truly hers. Now all projects, no matter if they’re mine or someone else’s feel the same. It’s draining. Somewhere along the way, the line between creativity and work are now blurred. And at 26 I could use some Windex.
First time ever using Adobe Illustrator in college— made a graphic of nonetheless, myself and my camera.
Us creatives are no stranger to a “creator’s block”. A time where nothing flows. The inner thoughts that stem your creativity just simply aren’t there. This is different. In many ways, I feel anger towards the modern world for stripping away the time I once had for creativity. I feel anger at myself, for lack of self-control being on my phone and opening TikTok for the 50th time today. Knowing damn well it’s the root cause of my issue, and distracting me from the time I already had. The vicious cycle of replacing it with a “better” social media platform like Pinterest, and then finding myself in the depths of TikTok again. Why don’t you just Brick yourself then? Or delete the app? Good point, but at what point can two things no longer coexist? I strive for a perfect world where the lines are no longer blurred. The time on projects at work, are simply for work and do not come home with me. And the projects for me, are just for me. TikTok has TikTok time, and my creative space is mine to own. You would think everything in your life can be time-blocked. Time-blocking your own personal life on a calendar does not seem ideal. In reality, it’s all a dance. A dance I’m still very much learning.
Each and every one of us is really just in the thick of it all. Trying to balance the duty we owe to our work, our family, our relationships, our friends, pets, ourselves, and lastly (for me) our passions. I can’t be the only one that realizes I’ve lost a good chunk of my true self in the midst of achieving greatness. While striving to climb the ladder, live in the physical destination of my dreams, be a good wife and great friend, there is a girl that simply likes to take photos, write copy, and create greatness. I think it’s time to get angry about the time wasted, instead of trying to pinpoint who or what is to blame. I think it’s time to dust off the camera, and lug that thing around for a while.
This year, I’m not only trying to take it slow but just find balance. Finding a balance in a 8-5 is step 1, but I think I’m learning to accept that work will always be there. The time for yourself will not. What do you want to leave behind? Is it your crocheting? Painting? Junk journaling? What are you working towards?
Creative Projects for 2026 — A Return to Myself
To hold myself accountable, here is a short refined list of creative projects that I’d like to complete in 2026:
A Perfect Day in Downtown Seattle
Why I thought fishing was boring, and how my husband taught me to be a great fisherwoman.
1 week road tripping BC, Canada
How to find the whimsy in every day life— and hold on to it
A Day Chasing Orcas Along the Puget Sound
Romanticizing every part about a PNW Ferry Ride
Things I Love About my 1970’s Rental
Developing Expired Film, and Learning How to Do it The Right Way
Why the PNW truly is the best place to be