I don’t mean like, early in the day.
I’m talking about my age: 36 is way too early for a mid-life crisis, right?
Also, I kind of feel like I just did this. When I turned 30 I had a major existential crisis, complete with “What am I doing with my life?!” freakout. I can’t say that I’m exactly where I’d imagined I’d be in my mid-30s, but I’m also not living in a shitty apartment in a seedy area with a dude who barely likes me, working a job I loathe.
At least I don’t think any of those things are true. Sometimes I wonder how much Dan likes me when I’m nagging him to pick up his socks, but I don’t loathe my job and I live in a nice place, so there’s that.
All jokes aside, I’m not loving certain aspects of my life lately. The biggest source of stress has been my job. When I first started the position, and even for the three years after that, it was great and I loved it. A whole bunch of things have changed in the last year, and they were all things that I really loved about the job, like the flexibility. So I’m unhappy, and we all know that when we devote so many of our waking hours to something we dislike, it makes us unhappy. So I’m attempting to come up with ways to be less unhappy. One of those ways will be to quit my job eventually, but neither my personal life or my financial life is ready for that step.
I’m also not quite sure what I want to do with the rest of my life. The industry I currently work in is one I kind of fell into; like many people, I realized I was good at a thing, and people would pay me to do the thing, so I’ve been doing the thing for most of my adult life. It’s not that I necessarily want to keep doing the thing, but I continued to be offered those kinds of jobs and collecting paychecks, and until recently it hasn’t made me actively miserable, so I never put much thought into what I’d like to do next. This is the whole reason I never finished college: how am I supposed to decide the one thing I want to spend the bulk of my life doing? It seems an impossible task. I know some people have passions that they can turn into careers, like Dan with his airplanes and some of my engineer friends, but there aren’t a lot of things I feel that strongly about.
More and more I’ve realized that writing is something I’d like to do like, as a career. For money. So that when someone asks me what I do I can say, “Oh, I’m a writer.”
Part of me feels like I’m already a writer. I write things, ergo, I’m a writer. But I also have a wicked case of Imposter Syndrome and feel like a fraud any time I attempt to assert myself as an authority on basically anything.
So last week I took myself on a little solo retreat to get my life together. I took time away from work. I took a lot of baths. I didn’t talk to anyone, ate a lot of crap, drank a lot of coffee. And I fucking wrote shit. It was glorious. When I left the Airbnb I rented I felt so relaxed and ready to DO THE THINGS: writing things, blog things, literally all the things.
One of those things is a giveaway that I’ve been promising for months. I have a big ass box of shiny new goodies, and I want to give them to you, and you, and you over there in the corner. My goal is to take photos and get that up by the end of the week. I have other writing projects I’ve been working on and an episode of the podcast to get out so it’s going to be a lovely, creative week. I’m excited.