For some reason, turning 33 has given me pause. Jesus was 33 when he died. The second pastor of the church I grew up in was 33 when he took over lead pastorship from his father. Strange comparisons for me, I know, but it makes me think that I should have accomplished something big by now, if I ever mean to accomplish anything. Right now my biggest accomplishment is getting out the door with mascara on, and Evelyn fed and in a matching outfit.
I guess I feel like a big ball of wasted potential. The possibility was there, but the motivation was lacking. I didn't finish school; I didn't seek out a career path or specialized training. I let life happen as it came to me. And now I look at the people who work around me, who are so knowledgeable and confident in their positions, and I feel very small. On the one hand, it's ok to sit where I am at the bottom of my ladder, forwarding e-mails and entering data. Work is not my life and I don't want it to be. On the other hand, as I have said, I could have done something big.
Who knows...I'm only 33. There is still time for education and career path changes. For now I have children to raise and a mortgage to pay. Now to find a way to be okay with that...
|Thirty-Three...Not so bad|