At the beginning of 2016, I said that this was going to be MY year. I was going to get shit done. Well, I was full of crepe. Sure, I took some time off after leaving my job. I worked on destressing. I got a huge-ass tattoo. I hired a personal trainer. I ran a half marathon (well, I kind of stopped, dropped and rolled through a half marathon). I should be satisfied, wouldn't ya think? Well, not so, my friends. What happened to my goals? What about my dream? Once the euphoria of “freedom-from-miserable-job” wore off, I was tired. I still am tired. I just don't want to lift a toenail. I get up, I feed some kids (usually mine), get them off to school, come home, make a coffee and sit on my couch and watch a "little" TV that lasts until about 4pm when I have to go out and pick up the kids.
When I started this blog more than a year ago, I had made a decision about what I wanted to do. I thought that once I would leave my job, I would go to school, take classes and just start working and enjoying my choices. But, as it turns out, I have responsibilities. I especially have three little 'responsibilities' that take up my time and energy. They are adorable sometimes andmostly worth it, but the energy that I had left it just gone.
How do people do it? I read your motivational posts all the time on social media - “It's never too late to start your dream,” “Colonel Sanders was 102 years old and suicidal before he became a billionaire.” In just a few short short weeks, I will be 40. While 30 did not scare me, 40 fucking freaks me out. What have I done? Have I made anyone's life better? Are my kids going to be happy?
On top of it all, loneliness set in. Although I was not happy in my job, I loved my colleagues. It was nice to see people from so many experiences and backgrounds every day and have ADULT conversation. I mean now I am free to go shopping and do what I want all day, but doing it alone is just depressing. I miss my family. We talked about moving back to beautiful little Cape Cod. Maybe... Why not? It is such a huge risk, but we would have help and love around us. I would be able to become a Health Coach because it exists there! I can make a career and be someone! Then, BAM! America let us down. The risky aspect of an international move became a scary one. Now that this womanizing twatweasle will become president, what will happen? The worst is coming out in people and I cannot let my children grow up listening to this orange dick-tator. Now, we are working on the paperwork for my French citizenship. Well, I will be once I can be bothered to do it.
I have doubts about everything. Where we will live? What kind of education will I need to succeed? Should I just go back to the mind-numbing jobs and be a functioning member of society? Just thinking about the commute makes me nauseous. We are stable. We have a home and good children. Should I really just throw all that away just to be happy and have friends? It sounds like a stupid question. Shouldn't we be happy because we have stability? Shouldn't we be able to move to the damned seaside if we want to? What should we do next?
Maybe this is all part of my mid-life crisis.
Maybe I should just get another tattoo.
When I started this blog more than a year ago, I had made a decision about what I wanted to do. I thought that once I would leave my job, I would go to school, take classes and just start working and enjoying my choices. But, as it turns out, I have responsibilities. I especially have three little 'responsibilities' that take up my time and energy. They are adorable sometimes andmostly worth it, but the energy that I had left it just gone.
How do people do it? I read your motivational posts all the time on social media - “It's never too late to start your dream,” “Colonel Sanders was 102 years old and suicidal before he became a billionaire.” In just a few short short weeks, I will be 40. While 30 did not scare me, 40 fucking freaks me out. What have I done? Have I made anyone's life better? Are my kids going to be happy?
On top of it all, loneliness set in. Although I was not happy in my job, I loved my colleagues. It was nice to see people from so many experiences and backgrounds every day and have ADULT conversation. I mean now I am free to go shopping and do what I want all day, but doing it alone is just depressing. I miss my family. We talked about moving back to beautiful little Cape Cod. Maybe... Why not? It is such a huge risk, but we would have help and love around us. I would be able to become a Health Coach because it exists there! I can make a career and be someone! Then, BAM! America let us down. The risky aspect of an international move became a scary one. Now that this womanizing twatweasle will become president, what will happen? The worst is coming out in people and I cannot let my children grow up listening to this orange dick-tator. Now, we are working on the paperwork for my French citizenship. Well, I will be once I can be bothered to do it.
I have doubts about everything. Where we will live? What kind of education will I need to succeed? Should I just go back to the mind-numbing jobs and be a functioning member of society? Just thinking about the commute makes me nauseous. We are stable. We have a home and good children. Should I really just throw all that away just to be happy and have friends? It sounds like a stupid question. Shouldn't we be happy because we have stability? Shouldn't we be able to move to the damned seaside if we want to? What should we do next?
Maybe this is all part of my mid-life crisis.
Maybe I should just get another tattoo.