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.