You think you know me

I had a conversation tonight that was an exercise in "owning it".

We were talking about people my age who are very successful professionally. And my anecdotes all had to do with "that night that we had a huge event and I worked until 4am and made a few hundred dollars." Pretty fucking impressive, huh? A professional highlight of mine. Never mind being the vice-president of some major corporation, or a published author, or a doctor or lawyer or indian chief. Hell no, Daffodil keeps it real. Remember that time that I booked a honeymoon for that one couple? Yeah, that sounded like an awesome itinerary. I have a career all right - I live vicariously through others.

Here I am, 35 years old, Happily married, 2 great kids, the house and the yard and the picket fence (really!) living on Maui and loving it...........sort of. Living the dream, right? Wooooohooooo.

This is, by any measure, not where I thought I would be in my life.
I am surrounded by over-achievers. Friends and relatives with careers and salaries to match. And they have the husbands and the kids and the picket fence too (unless they are whooping it up in some glamorous urban-chic loft somewhere, or rocking the acreage, with a pool and all that comes with country living.

And I am waiting tables and writing a blog.

Am I happy? Yeah, sure. Of course. I have love, I have health, I have a roof over my head and shoes on my feet and food in my belly.

Am I satisfied? Fuck No.

I am, in fact, exactly where I was when I graduated from high school. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. And even if I figured it out, I am pretty sure that between my rapidly approaching middle age, my lack of a degree, and my location somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, I may be Shit Outta Luck.

What the FUCK am I going to do with myself?

With both kids off to school this fall, and everyone else my age getting their shit together, I really need to get crack-a-lackin. If only I knew what it was I wanted to do, and if only I had the money to do it.

If only. I am RSVPing for my life - regrets only, tonight, apparently.

It is easier to face my life's work (or distinct lack thereof) with my beloved sidekick. But Sam is still on Maui, and I am here.......with a lot of time to think about what I have accomplished in life and where I am headed, and a lot of time to think about how shitty I feel about my accomplishments thus far. A few years ago my mother told me that my nursery school teacher was disappointed to hear that I hadn't done more with my life. It was the first I had heard of my underachiever status.

Why didn't you tell me? I had NO IDEA.

So, now that I know I have no prospects for any sort of professional career unless I come up with some capital (or get really good at forgery so I can whip up a few MBAs and MDs and PhDs for my walls) what do I do now?

What am I going to DO?

What the fuck, Daffodil. Let's go to bed and listen to depressing music and contemplate my lot in life. And then tomorrow will be another day and I can wake up refreshed and renewed and maybe even inspired.

Or not. Whatever.