My friend and I keep talking a lot about perspective lately. We're both in similar boats, ones that seem to have wonky rudders and keep steering us away from where we want to be with our careers and lives. I wonder if mine is fundamentally flawed, that no matter what I do I will remain off-course. I wonder if I made an error years ago and that one event determined the path to mediocrity that I find myself on now.
Yesterday I had a particularly dismal day. Stuff happened that made me wonder why I don't just quit all my jobs and empty my bank account and travel until the money is gone and I just try to start again wherever I wind up. It didn't seem like it matters if I do my job well or try at anything because there's always something there to remind me that it's all for naught. I had to hold back irrational tears when a more senior co-worker asked what I wanted for my work schedule because I know it doesn't matter what I want; I have little input into my jobs right now. I'm dangling from a tiny, raveling thread, set to expire in April. I have one day of work in May and otherwise my schedule is empty.
And I know that, as I was thinking of how pathetic it is that I can't see past March, I was sent signs that it could be worse. One of my biggest fears growing up (other than being stuck in a submerged car or being buried alive) was being unable to communicate, of being stuck inside my body without the means to let myself out somehow. And as I waited for the train, two people came on with cerebral palsy, one barely eking out words as her face and body contorted to be heard. The person she was with had more control of his voice, but less control of his body. And I knew that it was a nudge, that I shouldn't be feeling sorry for myself that my life isn't right. But it just made me feel worse. I have none of the physical limitations, yet still can't make anyone hear me.
I went home from my 13-hour day and decided to make a pizza and go to bed, hoping things wouldn't look as bad today. I should be used to this uncertainty by now; it's been three years of this round already. Something always comes up. I've been smart enough to squirrel enough money away that, if it came to it, I could manage without work for a while. I know that I am lucky to be living the life that I am. It is just sometimes a heavy burden to have the freedom to do whatever I want because being needed or feeling tied to somewhere is what I really need. I don't like just being a barely warm body to fill some hours. It would be nice to feel like I'm accomplishing something, anything. Purpose.
