I want to write. I want to do something creative. I want to have my own store (I’m still hooked on the idea of a children’s bookstore). I want to be my own boss.
See, I know what I want. But what I don’t know is how to get from here to there. I keep returning to the themes of: I’m almost 42. I have no plan. I’m getting closer and closer to 50. And I’m still not doing what I want to be doing with my professional life.
You’d think that after way too many years of education, and some interesting jobs, that I’d know what the hell I want to be when I grow up. However, when you have a brain that complicates everything and is completely risk-averse, it’s time to go to law school. Been there, done that. What next?
There’s a new store opening up in town. Called Babys Perfect Gift. I’m tempted to tell them their signage/logo is missing a much-needed apostrophe. Maybe I’ll become a signage copy editor. OK, maybe not.