By the way, I’m a graphic designer.

Those of you who don’t know me might wonder what it is I actually do for a living since lately my blog has become a random batter of topics from gardening to procrastination, and my tweets consist mainly of what I’ve spilled on my desk that day. I thought I understood what my career was and always would be until recently, when I was hit by what I suspected was a wave of food poisoning. Turns out it was just a mild case of inspiration. (Apparently, both involve sleepless nights and nausea.)

I was pretty creative as a child. My mom used to tell stories about the interesting “art” projects I cobbled together out of leaves and crayons; and once I went door to door selling tickets to a puppet show that hadn’t even been produced yet. (Perhaps I should have become a mortgage lender.) So it was no surprise when I decided to study graphic design. I’ve been a designer for pretty much my entire adult life—and I imagine I’ll never stop—but I’ve recently begun feeling a pull to do something else, which is the cause of all this queasiness.

For no clear reason I’ve started holding events, monkeying around with writing and just being kind of different than normal. But as I said to a friend on Twitter recently, “Normal is relative in social media.” The fascinating and talented people I’ve met via social media have inspired me to think outside my little designer’s brain and experiment with dreaming big. The thing with dreams though is that they often take a while to digest and make sense. Plus, mine usually involve tornadoes and cake, but that’s an issue best left to a professional in the mental health field.

Since I have a terrible sense of direction, it’s hardly surprising that I have no idea which path to follow right now, but I’m not afraid of taking a wrong turn here or there. I’ll just continue cruising around in circles, trying to avoid tornadoes until I find my way. Should be a piece of cake.