Or (D)...all of the above.
The truth is I AM STUCK. And it stinks.
Yes, I know. Real adults don’t whine. They take risks. Leaps of faith.
But I have short legs. Never been a really strong jumper.
Yes, as Captain of my Destiny, I hold the key to freedom. I'm just not sure what I did with the key. Perhaps it flung itself overboard, taking Peace of mind, Self Fulfillment and Making a Difference with it. The ship is sinking and unlike Captains of old who went down with theirs, I’m not feeling all that loyal. I’d mutiny, but at the moment I feel more like that red shirted Ensign being sent out on an important mission in the final frontier.
And we know how well that always turns out.
I am tired of arguing with…me. Intellectual Me knows it’s time to move on from a job sucking the life out of me. Common Sense Me points out my family is made up of more than just my needs. Scared *!@#less Me wonders how to give up hard earned seniority to start from scratch. I’m at a weird age. I’m not a kid. I’m not old. I’m standing at the crossroads of Where-do-you-fit-into-our-plans? vs. DO-you-fit-into- anyone’s-plan?
And I thought being 13 was a nightmare.
Realistic Me voices concern that job jumping in a shaky economy is stupid while You’ve Got To Be Kidding! Me is protesting a disinterest in cultivating a crop of ulcers just to make others look good. My Heart suggests I do what I do best. Write. My Brain interjects a reminder of how many gazillion people in the world believe they are writers.
My Sense of Humor promises never to desert me. I’ve always loved it best. And trusted it most.
I’ve always had public service jobs because I actually enjoy helping people. Making a difference. (Kindly hum Kumbaya to yourself.). It’s what I’m good at: making other people’s lives easier.
Oh, the irony.
My current mood is: Cranky. And I hate it. But I’ve been worn down. Rubbed raw by people who strive daily to be mediocre…as long as they don’t have to stretch too hard to attain it. I'm surrounded by mental midgets who think I’m the idiot because my belief is you’re suppose to do more than unlock the door and turn on the lights to earn a paycheck. Their motto is, “Do no more than you’re told…and as little as possible at all other times.”
I’m not wired that way. I actually care. I care, therefore I am frustrated, angry, embarrassed and tired. Very tired.
Yesterday I bottomed out. I felt Me crawling into myself and pulling down the hatch door to seal out the world. And just before I could yell, “Leave me the hell alone!”, I read something which made me squirm. “
Hatch door open.
I don’t mind getting up off the couch. I simply need to locate more than the front door. Maybe one of you could kindly assist with kicking my butt out of Park and into Drive? Or impersonate a cheerleader. Whichever you’re better at.
Sure, intelligent walking means having a direction. Maybe today I could focus on locating a map. Start planning that walk. Maybe today could turn into Why Not? Wednesday.
Um, could someone please hand me something else to wear while I get out of this Red Shirt?