Come, inside my brain pan and see what my midlife crisis is doing.
Patsy Stone buffer...
I want to talk about career for a moment. My husband is 5 days away from graduating from grad school with a nurse practioner degree in a specialty of some sort (no doxxing, yo). He is fielding job offers and generally things are excited about this new stage in Mr.’s life.
I had a semi OK day. My work day at a large multinational corporation managing a team of more than 15 people was not too busy, not too slow, with minimal fires to put out. I left work early to get my first mammogram (woo), then got a cheap iced coffee with a Starbucks treat receipt and had time to go grocery shopping before picking up the kiddo, which was nice. I even loaded the dishwasher! So I was feeling good about my adulting today.
Then the Mister got home, and wanted to tell me all about this job offer he got today to work 1 week a month in major metropolitan city 5 hours from here and make possibly 3 times what he is being offered here (private practice, yada yada). Which is definitely something to consider. Except I was excited to share my little baby adulting steps with him, and he had to spend 20 minutes telling me about this great job offer and spending one week a month away from me. And my stupid head said “He will make more money and have a major metropolitan girlfriend and leave me because I am fat and boring and unlovable.” Because my head is stupid.
Representation of my brain:
So my career right now: I am a cubicle monkey. I am a supervisor, so I am making good money. Hell, we have been living off of my salary for awhile as my husband has been in school. However, my job is mind-numbingly corporate and non-creative. I am the boss of over 15 people, mostly telecommuters. We process widget overpayments, so it is all different computer systems, and spreadsheets, and productivity, and quality checks, and putting as much sweetener as I can on the turds before they roll downhill.
Which is the opposite of what I should be doing. I fancy myself a creative person. At one point, I was in radio, and also in the music business. But then Napster and Clear Channel happened and I got tired of not gettting paid and sold out to THE MAN for money and 5 weeks of vacation days a year. I am dangerously close to burning out on corporate America. I am so sick of it.
I have no idea what creative thing I could do as a career and have lots of insecurity about whether I’m good enough to be paid to be creative/funny/etc. The last time I seriously put myself out there, I was working in music publishing, mostly goofing off and writing about pop culture on my Angelfire website. (YES that was a long ass time ago). My sister finally told my mom about my website, and my mom sent me an email saying she was “disappointed” in me. I guess because I cursed a lot on my site? She didn’t like my cultural critiques? I have been afraid of being creative in public since then. (Mind you, there is a whole shit ton of history to unpack here with my mom, who died 10 years ago from breast cancer, that deserves its’ own post to over-analyze). And hanging around you fine people and seeing the trolls and doxxing and craziness that comes with internet fame makes me wary of putting anything out there because I do live in a red state and I am a boss at a big company and there is lots of potential for me to do stupid shit to affect my job or my family.
However. GOD I AM SO SICK OF MY LIFE AND I HATE BEING JEALOUS OF OTHER PEOPLE’S HAPPINESS AND I AM A SCARED FAT MIDDLE AGED WOMAN WHO HAS NO OVARIES TO DO ANYTHING WAQAAAAAAA>
Maybe I should just win the lottery and then I can go find myself.
In the meantime, I am going to go eat a piece of fudge pie the Mister brought home (HE SHOULD HAVE LED WITH THE PIE), and then try to sleep. So I will holla at y’all tomorrow.