I’m getting old. Wearing out. Getting a bit long in the tooth. I haven’t exactly had a “career” and at this point, I’m thinking about social security and Medicare, not career advancement.
I guess I never had a plan – not a REAL plan. Oh, I thought I had a plan once. It was foolish and it was juvenile. I was going to be an artist. I didn’t have any wild fantasies about fame and riches. But I did believe I would, with no great effort on my part, achieve some level of “middle-class comfort” with my work.
Well, are you ready for the big reveal? That artist thing didn’t happen and I spent my life toiling away at various unfulfilling jobs. There is no logical trajectory between where I have been and where I wish I could be.
By every modern American career metric, I have failed. I make nothing. I do nothing. I am nothing. I am not about to make partner in a law firm. I am not on the verge of becoming the CEO of a giant corporation. I’m not a tenured university professor. I am not retiring from a storied military career as a four-star general. And to tell you the truth, I don’t really want any of those things. I never did.
I discovered the things about which I am truly passionate rather late in life. I am not sure how I can change course or even if it’s really possible at this stage.
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