Thursday, October 7, 2010

dorky little nutshell

I've been thinking about taking a sabbatical. I know I can't. Probably never be able to really, but the idea of it is just so fucking compelling I can't seem to shake it. I hate my job. I keep saying I love what I do and I'm good at it; that I despise the cliques, bureacracy and nepotism. But truthfully I lost the zest for my job quite some time ago. I used to come home from work full of stories and excitement for what I did that day. Now the only time I mention work is to complain. My career stopped being something I loved and enjoyed and was challenged by and just became a paycheck. I'm not sure when but I think, if I was being completely honest it was a couple years ago, at the very least since I got moved to a different division and my every day became utterly routine.

At first I thought it was getting about time for me to go back to school again, and that's why I'm so restless and unhappy at work. Every living thing on planet Earth, has its ideal habitat where it is best suited, where it grows and thrives unlike anywhere else. For me that ideal environ is a classroom. I always wanted to be a lawyer. The goal was Harvard law, a distinguished career at the bar before an even more distinguished reign on the bench. Followed by either a supreme court appointment or a senatorial seat. Yeah I got pregnant at 16. So Harvard is out and I have to take a more circuitous route to the finish line. But I always knew I'd get to the finish line. I'd even decided the path I took as preparing me better for my future, giving me wisdom beyond my years, yada yada.

I can't go anywhere in my job. The one opportunity since July 2002 I've had to advance passed MONTHS ago. It'll be years, if ever, when another opportunity like it will come my way. I could quite literally be sitting at my same desk, doing the same job, for the same pay, for the rest of my natural born life (which is unlikely since my employer hates me and has made it abundantly clear over the past couple years that if the client didn't like me so much I'd be out on my ass quicker than you can say 'Fuck off!' but that's besides the point).

So, here I am thirty-four years old completely stalled in my career, completely stalled in my education, still spouting off the "I'm going to law school in a few years" line as though saying it means it's a goal I still want to achieve.

There's the rub, the biggest rub of all, I just realized recently I'm not sure I want to be a lawyer. I still love the idea of law school, but that's cause a classroom is my ideal habitat. I'm a born student. Geek to the core, baby. That's me, the asshole that screwed the grading curve cause she got 100% plus the 25 point extra credit. I was the skinny kid in glasses in the back of the room holding her arm up with her hand waving back and forth uttering: oh oh oh pick me pick me! I know the answer, I always know the answer, pick me! Validate me! Please!

That's me in a nutshell, it's a scary, sad, dorky little nutshell, but there you have it. I'm a goal oriented, book worm, geek of the week, brainiac with serious self image issues (hence the constant need for validation) that suddenly after a lifetime of knowing exactly who and what she wants to be and how to get there, has no idea who or what she wants to be or how to get there. All I do know for sure right now is that I don't want to do what I'm doing now.

I've been working or educating myself, usually at the same time, with no break for the entire life span of my 17 year old daughter. The only mother she's ever known is the one that is consistenly never there. She's moving away in the less than a year. Already planning her life without me in it. That's fair, that's right. But I'd give anything to be able to spend more time with her this final year she's home. Make sure she's really ready to face the world. Despite my youth, she's lived an incredibly sheltered and privileged life. I don't want reality smacking her in the face like it does so many others (myself included).

I want the opportunity to spend time with my 6 year old that her father has been blessed with almost since her birth. I don't want to be blogging in 11 years that she's preparing to leave home and leave me behind when I still feel like there is so much more to tell her and show her. I want for a change to be able to do the damn field trips and Halloween costume parade, or Christmas shows, without worrying how I'm going to make the time up. I shouldn't have to wiegh my children's childhoods against my fucking time card. At that's all I've done for 17+ years.

I like the idea of the house being clean so that the weekends can be filled with family and fun rather than chores, to-do lists and self disappointment at what didn't get accomplished. I like the idea that wouldn't take until a quarter to ten at night to do one afterschool activity, feed my family and help the baby with her homework.

I lust after the idea of time for myself. I yearn for the chance, a real chance, to take writing seriously, whether I suck or not. I'd love to be able to say okay this is what I'm going to do I'm going to take six months to a year to spend time with my kids, spend time with myself, figure out what I want to do for the next thirty-five years, and spend some real time writing.

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