Saturday, July 10, 2010

emergency exit

I was at a thrift store today looking through books; not looking for anything in particular when a copy of "What Color is Your Parachute 2003" popped up. I joke that I really could use a copy to figure out what to do with the next phase of my life... clearly I can't say I'm a roadie anymore. My one-year off -- what I intended to be a couple of months' hiatus but called "one year" became a self-fulfilling prophesy... times two! -- has stretched into 2010 and I have to face facts. It's time to move on. But is it really?

And then there's the monster of a problem with what to do next?

I think my parachute has holes. Honestly. When I think of what I could do that would make me happy, a new vocation, I don't have the foggiest idea as to what I need to do to get there. On the other hand when I try to think of a sensible career path, I have so little interest in doing what I know would be financially stable that I don't do anything to get there. I'm in a state of stasis and it's frighteningly comfortable here most days.

Is this what a mid-life crisis smells like?

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