Before we get into the promised topic, my wordpress has recently decided I’m mildly retarded. In the blank box at the top of the page, it now reads “Enter Title Here”. No shit? Where have I been putting it? My Publish button is huge, like about twice the size it was before. Have the wordpress people been reading my posts and muttering about idiots? If they have so much time on their hands, why don’t they clean my house?
Okay. Show of hands…who thought they would be doing (enter job description/title here) when they grew up? Whatever. Assholes.
Okay. So how many of you are like me and occasionally look around and think, “FUCK! Is this all there is?”
I don’t hate my life, but it certainly isn’t what I imagined it would be. As an adolescent I saw myself as a future jet setter in exotic places, with beautiful people, and money falling around me. My parents were the only things holding me back from the good life. After my first year of failed college courses I realized that unless I wanted to be a drug dealer or a hooker, the most exotic place I was going to see was the back of a Country Kitchen restaurant.
A second chance at higher education gave me the opportunity to have a career rather than a job. Yet somehow those plans all ended up in the garbage:
Veterinarian–Who doesn’t want to be a vet when they are a kid. The idea of playing with animals all day and getting paid for it is the stuff of dreams. Of course, no one ever tells kids that they may have to kill the animals people don’t want or that they will come home smelling of blood, shit and vomit every damned day. My dreams of being a vet ended when 1.) I realized I wasn’t smart enough and 2.) I passed out at the clinic while the vet was removing the stitches from my dog’s leg. No one wants a dumb, passed out vet.
Social Worker–This went hand in hand with my Save the World career. I could help people. I could stop child abuse, get families the food, shelter and medical attention they need and everybody could sit around holding hands and singing “Kumbayah”. The world would be a better place. This came to a screeching halt when 1.) I realized I wasn’t tough enough emotionally and 2.) I got an up close look at the level of child abuse people were willing to dish out on their kids. Social worker my ass, I was going to be a hitman.
Historian–I love history. It’s some funny stuff and I could spend days doing research in stuffy libraries, putting together the lives of people long past. I had to look for other employment when I discovered 1.) It pays dick and 2.) Nobody gives a shit about what happened last year let alone a hundred years ago. We’re all savages.
Teacher–Go back and read #3 except replace the basic needs with education. Again, I was going to make the world a better place. Funny thing about teaching: 1.) Schools want to try before they buy. They want you to substitute teach for at least a year before they hire you. This is great if you are young and fresh out of college and your parents are still used to supporting you. It sucks more than a little if you are a single mom and 2.) Wyoming schools think it’s nice that your GPA is high “cuz we like smart people as teachers, but, uh, can you coach anything?” Ack!
Sometimes I feel I have achieved nothing with my life. I did raise two pretty cool kids and I gave food and shelter to animals, but those are basic things, not great things.
I haven’t saved a whale or a rainforest. I haven’t stopped global warming or cured cancer. I haven’t written the Great American Novel or even a crappy American novel. I’m not an artist or a musician or a dancer.
Are other people as content as I think they are, or are we a nation wallowing in discontent? Am I having a mid-life crisis? Maybe I would feel better if someone named a street after me. And I had a million dollars. And a jet.