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With one foot stuck in the past and the other foot rooted firmly in tomorrow, I've effectively pissed all over today. Regrets of time wasted, opportunities missed, and dreams lost eat away at my conscience. I long for a fresh start. Oh how I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life. Better yet, I wish I knew what God wanted to do through me.
If only I had discernment of God's will for me in high school. I could've chosen a college and picked a major with intention. Instead, I let my flesh make all my decisions and stayed stuck on stupid (see Three Birds on a Fence). Seriously distracted by my full-time job as a free-lance drug addict, I wasted my parents' money choosing classes at random and dropping them at will.
At 29 years of age, I should be established in a career. Instead, I have an eclectic resume with little to no expertise in any particular field (aside from Fictitious and Theoretical Literature Composition and Motivational Speaking, see Delusions of Grandeur). The jobs my two Bachelor's degrees will allow, I want nothing to do with.
As new interests arise, I toy around with the idea of going back to school (again) to pursue a new career (again). The cost and time requirements of earning another BA are prohibitive; at this juncture the practicality of such is nil. Pursuing a Master's degree seems advantageous only to those already on a career path desiring to climb the pay scale. I want to head in a whole new direction.
I can't seem to fit the corporate, capitalist mold. Money won't fill the void (see The God-Shaped Hole). The thought of being stuck in a cubicle from 9am-5pm is anxiety-inducing. Working for peanuts to make someone else rich sickens me. As an employee, I'm self-centered and rebellious enough to cut my own nose off to spite the rest of my face. Under the challenge of a quota, I shut down. I simply don't care about projects that aren't mine and money isn't a strong enough incentive to motivate me.
As much greener as the grass of a new career looks, I'm not that naive. If I'm not spiritually motivated and fulfilled by my work, I'll continue to repeat the cycle of restlessness and dissatisfaction. I'm ready to receive my life's work and hear my calling. I pray I'm given the ears to do so.
Cue the fear of the future! Barring a lottery win, we'll need a regular source of income to keep our family afloat until this life's calling of mine decides to dial. What to do in the meantime? I wish I had it in me to just suck it up and take some job I hate for the next thirty years like generations past. The work force doesn't really seem to operate like that these days though. The traditional "pension and benefits for life" upon retiring have all but vanished. Companies start up and go out of business in the blink of an eye. Massive layoffs are common and the unemployment rate is rising.
Perhaps I'm too picky (some may call it spoiled and arrogant) but I can't seem to assimilate into today's workforce successfully. Not for lack of trying; I've had no less than eight jobs in the past six years. I feel deeply that I'm called to something with a purpose and am having a terrible time settling for nonsense.
So who pays the bills? It looks like my wife may enter the work force to bring home the vegan bacon. There's talk of such but opportunity hasn't yet arisen. Mortgage bills have though. And car insurance and electric and sewer and gas and cable and internet and grocery and so on and so forth. We trust God as our Provider and will stay put until He reveals the next step. Faith doesn't change the fact that patience proves difficult at times.
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