I have to move, but where do I look?
Over the past few weeks, I've looked as close as one-tenth of a mile away from where I am now and up to 12 miles away. That's a narrow window of opportunity I am giving myself. The reasons? I worry about my car making it through another Central New York winter and the public transportation is a confusing maze of connections and times that would be a great detriment to my sanity. I also feel compelled to return to a job I love, for the kids, but which last year, brought on as much stress as I've had to endure in the workplace in almost a decade. It aged me. I can feel it.
So why am I here? I am not necessarily happy, either at work or at home. I do not have what anyone would call friends here. I have what was once known as family, but those relationships have drifted considerably. I have no love for the beauty of the area, as I've been here long enough to take it for granted. So I'm here for the kids, in part, because I feel my presence enhances their already pretty posh lives. I did this in Scarsdale too, where the money was nearly five-fold and the hours, nearly three times as less; a part-time job with full pay. The kids. I have convinced myself that they need me.
The reality is, it's not so much that they need me, but I need them. I have little else. I wait on others to reach out, to ask me to re-enter their lives or simply tell me I'm needed. I'm not. None of us are really needed unless those who we want to need us truly want us. Let's not pretend that when the stress of daily life burdens us that we need others for anything other than a distraction. If you don't believe me, think of the holidays. We crave that company, those gatherings, the "love" that surrounds us, yet the real relief comes when they have gone. It's true with nearly everyone I know.
If my experiences have taught me anything, it is that life, unless we have great fortune, is about waiting. We are born, and before we know it, we are waiting to be older. Our parents claim the time goes so fast, but it really does go slowly. They wait for us to go to school and then wait for us to finish. We go along with this thought, always wanting to be an adult. We wait to find out scores and they wait on promotions or simply paychecks. We wait to find the right person, often choosing unwisely. We wait for the right school, the right job, the right house. Stop it if you believe there are all active pursuits. We wait for children and they wait for grandchildren. We wait for all the things our parents waited for, then act as if we're surprised by all the things they prepared us for. They wait for old age, as do we eventually. With old age comes death and for some, the wait is interminable. We wait for signs from above and signs from all around. We wait for packages of stuff and to find out results. We spend so much time waiting, we have an unlimited supply of time, and as technology has grown, we use it poorly. Even when we are active in our pursuits, the majority of the time is spent waiting for them to come to fruition. Retirement? A life spent waiting for the day, when all the things we've done, allow us to sit back and wait for it all to end, just with a little less pressure.
And here I sit, with no family, no children, few friends to rely on and even less who rely on me. I am not bound by social contracts and expectations and yet, I find myself waiting. For what?
Over the past few weeks, I've looked as close as one-tenth of a mile away from where I am now and up to 12 miles away. That's a narrow window of opportunity I am giving myself. The reasons? I worry about my car making it through another Central New York winter and the public transportation is a confusing maze of connections and times that would be a great detriment to my sanity. I also feel compelled to return to a job I love, for the kids, but which last year, brought on as much stress as I've had to endure in the workplace in almost a decade. It aged me. I can feel it.
So why am I here? I am not necessarily happy, either at work or at home. I do not have what anyone would call friends here. I have what was once known as family, but those relationships have drifted considerably. I have no love for the beauty of the area, as I've been here long enough to take it for granted. So I'm here for the kids, in part, because I feel my presence enhances their already pretty posh lives. I did this in Scarsdale too, where the money was nearly five-fold and the hours, nearly three times as less; a part-time job with full pay. The kids. I have convinced myself that they need me.
The reality is, it's not so much that they need me, but I need them. I have little else. I wait on others to reach out, to ask me to re-enter their lives or simply tell me I'm needed. I'm not. None of us are really needed unless those who we want to need us truly want us. Let's not pretend that when the stress of daily life burdens us that we need others for anything other than a distraction. If you don't believe me, think of the holidays. We crave that company, those gatherings, the "love" that surrounds us, yet the real relief comes when they have gone. It's true with nearly everyone I know.
If my experiences have taught me anything, it is that life, unless we have great fortune, is about waiting. We are born, and before we know it, we are waiting to be older. Our parents claim the time goes so fast, but it really does go slowly. They wait for us to go to school and then wait for us to finish. We go along with this thought, always wanting to be an adult. We wait to find out scores and they wait on promotions or simply paychecks. We wait to find the right person, often choosing unwisely. We wait for the right school, the right job, the right house. Stop it if you believe there are all active pursuits. We wait for children and they wait for grandchildren. We wait for all the things our parents waited for, then act as if we're surprised by all the things they prepared us for. They wait for old age, as do we eventually. With old age comes death and for some, the wait is interminable. We wait for signs from above and signs from all around. We wait for packages of stuff and to find out results. We spend so much time waiting, we have an unlimited supply of time, and as technology has grown, we use it poorly. Even when we are active in our pursuits, the majority of the time is spent waiting for them to come to fruition. Retirement? A life spent waiting for the day, when all the things we've done, allow us to sit back and wait for it all to end, just with a little less pressure.
And here I sit, with no family, no children, few friends to rely on and even less who rely on me. I am not bound by social contracts and expectations and yet, I find myself waiting. For what?
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