What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

May 9 -- Seeing as I am kind of ummm, grown up, it might seem like a ridiculous question to ask myself what I want to be when I grow up.  And yet, I seem to ask myself that all the time.  The frustrating thing is I still can't come up with an answer.

My mother, back on some particular day when she was in a good mood and was dispensing compliments, once told me that I had a problem -- I was good at too many things.  Now I know I am the only one of her five children whom she has told that to so part of me was a little happy to hear that kind of career assessment from my mother.   But there was a harsh truth in her words and honestly, that truth was kind of hard to absorb.  Because I understood what she meant -- it was like a bitter-sweet compliment.  And I knew that my interest and skill in a variety of areas made my life kind of difficult.  Interesting, but difficult.   On any given day, there are a variety of paths I could take to get back into the working world.  Communications, interior decorating, teaching, painting, working as Brian's assistant with his new company he is launching.  There are pros and cons to each path.  At the moment, my favorite path is teaching.  I am good at it, I love kids, I am passionate about reading and writing.  I have interviews.  I do well on them.  Seriously.  I seem to have great answers and everyone seems happy.  But then they don't call.  Or I get the rejection letter.   And I am back to square one once again.  Processing the rejection and telling myself all those "feel good" comments like, "it just wasn't meant to be." or, "There is a better job down the road."  Or my personal favorite, "it's their loss."  hmmmmm.

I know this sounds lame but I just wish someone would send me a letter of some sort and tell me what to do.   I just worry about money.  Yup.  There it is.  The million dollar (ha) insight.  But how can I not worry about it?  I was raised by a man who was FREAKED that he would lose his house.  Saved every cent.  Taught us kids how to look for the cans in the back of the shelf at the grocery store to see  if it had an old price tag on it.  Totally fear based.

But I have to remember that the fear of losing money etc is my dad's fear, not mine. And in the meantime, trust life and all that it is sending my way.  I will get a job.  I just want it to be perfect -- the perfect answer, the perfect fit for my complex personality.  Something that helps the family, particularly with insurance and paying the bills.  And something that challenges my mind.  That's important.  Now I have to get back to figuring out what it is...