Is it a mid-thirties crisis, the fact that I’m fed up with my current office job, or the stark realization that life is too short to spend anymore time than you have to doing things you aren’t dying to do?
Not really sure what I intended with posing that question but all three of the above options are how I feel and what I am currently debating in my sunburned head. Yes, I am mildly sunburned after spending a beautifully relaxing weekend at the beach with Hugo and the pups. It was their first time staying by the ocean and they spent the majority of it learning about seagulls, big waves and just how much sand in your belly and up your nose makes you feel sick. This weekend did so many things to me, and they were good things at that – I once again realized just how much I love Hugo as my partner in life, I reaffirmed how obsessed with and thankful for our two new pupster additions I am, and, finally, I circled back to all my continuous thoughts about doing something different concerning work and really pursuing my dreams. This quite time by the Pacific made me realize just a little bit more how life is constantly fading away, with every passing minute, so why waste it commuting into a heartless city to engage in work that doesn’t excite or reward you, when there are so many opportunities lying right outside of your comfort zone, just waiting to be explored?
Tough questions with even more difficult answers, because the answers require great risk and no guarantee of reward, success or happiness. But I think that is part of the thrill and appeal. If we knew it would work out, most of the anticipation and our ability as humans to pour our blood, sweat and tears into an endeavor might subside. Also, our ability to create sometimes hinges on a fire being built right under our ass, leaving us with no choice but to jump up.
Regardless, I still want a change. I am not sure where to go from here and I can’t just make these feelings go away. Some people easily work thirty years, from 9 to 5, in an office or not, just plugging away at their job, only to finish their tasks at hand on the day of their retirement party and pension check. Others (and I might be in this group) struggle from their hire date with inward questioning about if the job is for them, if something else would make them happier and pondering what it would look like if they were to quit, today. Now, throughout a long career, some might fall out early on, while others may grumble and moan, yet remain, until the bitter end. It is probably just a matter of time, personalities, pressure (both on oneself and from family), and the size of that fire under one’s ass. Hold on, I have to go…the flame is burning my bum.