I was in my inspiration room, rain falling on my head, and my mind open and imagination go to work (I was in the shower). The thought came to me: I am 50 now; I have approximately another 30 years left (actually 35.2 years left according the Social Security website). I wondered to myself since I don’t talk to myself in my inspiration room: what am I going to do with these additional 30+ years.
When I turned 30 I remember wondering what I was going to do with my life, but never came up with anything ground breaking, world shattering, or even anything worth writing down.
At 40 I did the same thing, although I may have written something down at this point. Forty was when I started noticing memory issues, and my health started getting suckier (and yes, that is a word!). I was at the peak of my life at 40 as well. Being a paralegal, single, owned a horse, had a great truck, and living on my own, I was a happy as a cat with a catnip plant. Thinking about the future had just really started being a concern for me. Retirement planning and such were now subjects I would discuss, but only when I was feeling like being an adult: most of the time I was buying Trix and Count Chocula cereal and watching skaters at the skateboard park.
Around 45 the body minions started their mutinous behavior. I really should have paid more attention to their complaints, but I couldn’t be bothered with the small stuff. Since the small issues were not being addressed, the body minions decided to go all out, and…well…the mutiny went full scale. Now we are at not even at the table any more. They just make plans, without consulting me on my wishes for the day, and throw random switches on for the day. Oh…there is so going to be a lot of body minions walking the plank very soon!
Anyway…here I am at 50, just realizing I have lived over half my life. There is no way this body is going to make it past the 85.2 years deemed as my life expectancy, much less to 100. I mean, really, who really wants to live to 100 years old? Maybe if you have a happy family, grandkids who are a joy, a partner who makes each day worth waking to, and a friggin’ body which is not in total opposition to your desired active lifestyle. Perhaps, but I think not.
So, back to what am I going to do with the rest of my life. I know things which are just going to happen: surgery on my knees, back, and ankle. Past these things, I have no idea.
- Am I going to write a book? Probably not, at least not one that will be any big deal. I am not being negative, just realistic.
- Will I ever own a horse again? This is a possibility, it is important to me, but I am not sure it will happen. I also have the very real fear that the longer I wait for the surgeries, the more the ability to ride a horse will be taken from me. This breaks my heart.
- Will I be able to go back to work as a paralegal? I loved doing this work, but I have a feeling I won’t fit in the field anymore. There are too many youngin’s taking the jobs now. They are cheaper, maybe not as educated and experienced as me, but this probably won’t matter much by the time I am able to go back to work.
- Should I finish my Ph.D.? Why? I have already discovered with just my Master’s degree I am over educated for any position I can apply for. I don’t have the experience needed for the jobs I really wanted when I started my Master’s journey, and now I have had to waste, yes waste, at least 5 years waiting for this stupid disability. The doctorate journey was started with the idea I would be able to teach, at the very least online, once I completed. As funds are not available currently, I cannot finish as was planned. It also doesn’t seem so important now: just another piece of paper for my accomplishment wall paper.
- Will I move to Scotland, or some other country who will allow Bichons? I have no friggin’ clue. Seriously. How to I even plan something that big at this point of my life? I know it can be done, I know I can do it, it is just so out there as to funds needed, I can’t even look at it seriously. This is probably why I haven’t researched and created a whole new Pinterest board of Scottish men. Yeah, that would be a definite sign to me that I was seriously thinking my life would be in Scotland.
Point is, I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life. I feel I should have some sort of plan, design, or at the very least, cheap goals. I just don’t: no goals; no desires (except to actually get out of my cave and see a movie on the big screen again); and definitely no ‘rest of life plan’.
And now…I have totally lost the plan, the goal, of this piece. How the hell I am supposed to decide or at least contemplate my remaining 35 years when I can’t even keep on the same track for a Word Press piece? Just what I thought, I am lost.