Ready To Be Smacked...

“No man can succeed in a line of endeavor which he does not like.” -Napoleon Hill

Some days I sit here, at the computer, waiting for my life to begin.

I type random stories, essays, and blogs out on Word, then read them and re-read them. I take pictures, upload them to Photoshop, edit them, and print. I browse craigslist - the job section - and always end up leaving the site with nothing. I read books, then read some more - looking for that one sliver of light that will illuminate everything...

I am now - as it seems I've always been - searching. Searching for that one sign, that one piece of the puzzle, that will bring everything in my life together. That will make everything fit.

I haven't found it yet.

For as long as I can remember, I've been a person that feels I need to have a career - whether it be a teacher, writer, photographer, lawyer, doctor, accountant, pro-wrestler - to be happy. To be normal. And, unfortunately, to be complete.

Now, I don't look down on anyone who doesn't have a "career." I place an equal amount of envy on everyone. Even though I have no desire to be a lawyer, a banker, an accountant, a business woman, I still envy people who are those things. I envy the drive they had to become those things. The fact that their desires were so easily defined and structured. Go to school, study, get degree, get job.

My desires were never that simple. I attended college for what seemed like forever, never really wanting to follow through with any of my majors - physical therapy, teaching, athletic training, speech pathology - because I couldn't fathom doing any of them for the rest of my life. I wasn't being fickle. I was being realistic. Those subjects were, to me, boring, boring, and mind-numbingly boring. (No offense to people who work in those fields. As I mentioned previously, I envy you. So relax and pull in your claws.)

And the people who don't care about having a career? Who don't let the status quo of their jobs define them? I envy those people as well. The ones who work in bookstores or auto parts stores full time, or who bartend on weekends and whittle wood into rocking chairs during the week. I wish, more than anything, I could be like those people. I wish I could simply be grateful for being alive and appreciate each day as it arrived. I wish I could see myself as special, despite what I did (or didn't do) for a living.

I wish I could really see that my life meant something - career or no career.

But I don't. I have a need, a hunger, to define myself by my work. Right now, I feel incomplete. I can't imagine sitting at a desk, in an office, and answering phones for the rest of my life. At the same time, I can't see myself doing what I'm currently doing for much longer, either. The restlessness, to put it mildly, is growing.

When will I find that sign? That signal? When will I be hit with that unavoidable, wow-it-was-so-obvious-it-just-smacked-me-in-my-face calling that told me what it was that I was meant to do? And, most importantly, told me how I was to go about doing it?

I want to make a difference. I want my time to mean something. I want to be able to contribute to the welfare of my family while, at the same time, contributing to the world as a whole. I want to be able to express my creativity, enjoy my work, and be happy when I'm done. I want to feel full-filled.

And yes, I do understand that not every day at work will be a picnic. But isn't it important to put yourself into a work environment that you can at least tolerate? That doesn't make you feel like you're dying a slow death day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year?

So, here's my request to the Universe... I'm ready to be smacked. I'm ready to be hit. I'm ready to be clocked square in the jaw if that's what it takes.

Do whatever you have to. Either way, I'm ready for my life to begin.

P.S. - Life is what you make of it. Happiness is a choice. I'm a firm believer in that. But, with that being said, we all have our "off" days. And this is one of mine. So allow me to vent without judging. Or judge if you want to. I really don't care. ;)
__________________

“Each of the professions means a prejudice. The necessity for a career forces everyone to take sides. We live in the age of the overworked, and the under-educated; the age in which people are so industrious that they become absolutely stupid.”
-- Oscar Wilde