Not literally shitting myself yet, I’m sort of in the lower-middle of the age spectrum when it comes to that. Hopefully.
I am however, far nearer to thirty than I’d ever imagined I would be, surely I would never reach the dizzy heights of an actual adult’s age? Apparently time waits for no (wo)man though, so it appears to be true, I’m getting old.
In a mild(ly hysterical) panic I started a little checklist in my head of things I’ve done with my life, and it went something like this……
Travelled (if you can call a season in Ibiza surviving on spaghetti hoops and questionable shots travelling) √
Had wonderful children and didn’t leave any of them in the supermarket (for long) √
Got married to a rather wonderful chap who appreciates my love of handbags and makes a decent brew √
Aaaaannd that’s about what I’ve got. Literally all that sprang to mind of my life’s fulfilled ambitions. Admittedly the last two are bloody good things to have achieved, particularly the supermarket thing, but still, nearly 3 decades on this god forsaken planet and this is what I’ve done with the time allotted to me.
I have never met (or had sexual relations with) Liam Neeson, I never went to Thailand and ate insects, I never learned how to hotwire a car (don’t judge, it’d be a handy talent), I can’t play any instruments and I never wrote a world changing novel to rival To Kill A Mockingbird.
I’m not saying I’m a failure, much, but I don’t think I’ve set the world on it’s heels or made my mark, not even a scratch. With that in mind (and with a little help of a kick up the arse from my wonderful girlfriends) I decided to do something about this. Tonight I had a wardrobe clear out, so cathartic. I made a wholesome, filling meal and didn’t bitch about elbows on the table, knives held like pens and other insignificant things that would normally boil my blood, and I wrote a CV.
I am not actually in the market for a new job, as such. Hours at work have been reduced and I put a little bit of my sad state down to this. I love spending time with the kids, and getting on with stuff in the house, but I also love having money. So I’m looking at ways to do something I love (writing), and being paid for it, alongside my current work commitments. For that however, I needed to dust off and brush up the written account of my working life.
The easy part was my (distinct lack of any useful) qualifications and job history. Writing about my weaknesses was a damn sight easier than my strengths but I had to be brutally honest with myself and I actually came away feeling a lot better than going into it. Acknowledging my flaws and comparing them against my strengths made me realise that I’m not as altogether shit as I had previously thought.
Writing about previous jobs and the roles I had made me realise that there’s such a variety of things I’ve been lucky enough to be involved in, that perhaps I’ve not sucked at life quite so much at all. Sometimes we get so bogged down in the grey, that seeing things in black and white brings a whole new perspective.
So I’m not that shit, I’m not that much of a failure, spaghetti hoops on toast is the foodstuff of champions, and I’m not “nearly thirty”……I’m 29.
Plenty of time to set the world alight.