The Girl With No Fucking Clue!

I am 56 years old today. And while I pondered that fact this morning over a cup of coffee, I came to the realization that004

I am no closer to knowing who I am or who I will become, since the day I was born.

One thing I am certain of though – Creativity is at the root of it.

Creativity, and a undying hope that someone, somewhere, will see me and say “Damn, she’s talented, let’s explore that.” But for today, and because of all the days leading up to it,  I have come to the conclusion that I have no fucking clue who I am or where I’ll wind up. Some days, I hate being me.

 

There are some basic certainties, besides creativity, that I am sure of. I am a daughter, a sister, mother, aunt and grandmother. Last time I checked I’m human, Caucasian, female, short by some standards and slightly pudgy by others. My hair is graying, I have all my teeth but one, and my health could be better. I’d like to think that I am kind, but I have said mean things and meant them. I would like to think that I am social conscious, but have prejudices that I keep in check. I would like to think that I am an environmentalist, but sometimes I generate garbage needlessly and I don’t always consider the impact it will  have on Mother Earth and her children.  And to my detriment, I possess a very over-active imagination AND I wear my heart on my sleeve. If I like you, you’ll know it. If I don’t you’ll know that too.

Beyond those certainties, (which most of the population can relate to)  I have no fucking clue who I am. 56 and no fucking clue!

 

Am I writer?

003Well, I wrote these books. I write this blog. I’ve put pen to paper for over twenty years. I call myself a writer, but then I call  myself a lot of things.

All you have to do is look at my  resume to see all things that I think I am.Just because I listed that I am a “Sales professional with a design and administrative background..,” is that who I am. Just because I have done these jobs in the past is that who I am?  Shit, I’ve been drunk before, does that mean I’m a drunk. I’ve tried pot once or twice, does that mean I’m a pot head? Just because I have certain skills and abilities, does that mean that’s who I am?

Am I an artist/designer/crafter?

019

Well, I’ve made all these things and hundreds like them. Hours, upon  hours, upon hours have been spent over the last 40+ years; painting, drawing, designing, sewing, gluing and arranging things. Have I created works of art; hardly. I would never profess to be a master of any of them. But I have created all of them, and enjoyed doing so immensely.

But is that who I am, because I enjoy doing something?

I enjoy dancing, but I am not a dancer. I enjoy writing comedy, but I am not a comedian. I enjoy movies and the theater, but I am not an actor. Well, except for all those times that I faked an orgasm, (There’s been so many of them I should be nominated for an Oscar or inducted into some sort of Hall of Fame.)

Sorry, I digressed.

I’m 56 today and I have no fucking clue who I am or where I am going to wind up.There should be a support group for people like me. And I would tell them, after introducing myself, that I quit my job this Monday past; with no back-up plan. My ducks just waddled off course, dragging my sanity behind them in a little red wagon with a wobbly back wheel.

Who in their right mind quits their job, at 56,(well 55. I was still 55 on Monday) with no back-up plan, no slush fund, and no prospects?

Me, that’s who. The girl with no fucking clue. Who wears her heart on her sleeve and has an over active imagination. Oh yes, I am quite creative, bit of a genius if I do say so myself. But it won’t pay the bills, keep a roof over my head, or put food on the table. No matter how much I wish it could. Ashton Kutcher and my mom will be so disappointed in me.

I tried so hard to hold on, I really did. I went into work that day; tired, sore and stressed to the max. In the end it would seem that the straw that broke the camels back  was confusion – do you want me to take initiative, have pride in my work and assist customers to the best of my abilities  or do you want me to stand around, keep my mouth shut and look incompetent.

I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to issues that needed to be addressed. Months and months and months of issues that I was more than willing to take care of and help out with, only to be questioned as to why I was getting involved.

I tried, just to go into work, keep my mouth shut and collect my pay cheque. I did. Because in the end that is all they really want from you. They don’t really want you to have opinions or ideas. “Open Door Policy” is the great North American Corporate farce, don’t buy into it. And even though I am beating myself up over it, I quit my job, because its not in me to be incompetent. Its  not in me to stand around and do nothing when there is work that needs to be done; even though I am in pain. Its not in me to keep my mouth shut when I see blatant disregard….

(Insert heavy sigh here)

Oh well…perhaps I won’t get into that. While I ponder my next move (I always seem to be pondering my next move) and grab another cup of coffee, please keep in mind that I am looking for work. I will be ever so grateful if you passed my name on. Oh yes, and send food and money, it looks like it’s going to be a long and cold winter.

Just me

 

 

 

 

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4 Comments

Filed under A day in a life posts, Journey to Fortune & Fame

4 responses to “The Girl With No Fucking Clue!

  1. You’re gorgeous! Happy birthday. It’s a great opportunity to take stock and what a wonderful life you’ve had so far. Best wishes. 🎂🍾

  2. Life sends us crap over and over but some of us, you included battle on and your kind soul, hard work and creativity will brings it rewards. You are in my thoughts.

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