Somebody call HGTV because I think I found my calling: Home Decorator.
It’s been almost a year since I began my search for the perfect pieces to style my home — think of it like the tale of Goldilocks, except that this Goldilocks carried a wallet.
Aside from the one time I scalded myself on a bowl of porridge too hot, I’d say the other bowls — the ones in the pretty kitchen within the fabulous house — are just right.
I have nothing much to say today. The voices in my head — don’t call me crazy because I know you have your own — have been chattering all day long. And it’s that kind of dialogue that wears me out.Â
The talk starts up whenever I’m about to act upon a big decision, and it persists after I’ve made it … just to test my willpower.
While I tell these voices that the tea party is over, check out the recently added Portfolio section of this site. It reminds me of my accomplishments, and reminds me that I’m a rock star, regardless of what is being said in my head.
I’ve been fantasizing lately about walking away from my seven-year-old career. I say it as though it’s an era, when it’s not. Seven years is a laughable timeframe when compared to so many of my co-workers, one in particular who has not only been a journalist for 30-plus years, but has worked at the same company for that long. This fact makes me feel as though I’ll never be accomplished.
I’ve worked for my current employer for a year and eight months, and I’m getting antsy, restless.
I’m bored. I feel invisible. What should I do? What if i quit? What would I do next? Am I capable of anything but this? Nobody likes me; everybody hates me. I guess I’ll eat some worms.
The thoughts consume me, and then I begin to pout.
My good friend told me the other day that if I decide on another career path, self-adjustment will be necessary.
It’s hard for journalists, she said, to not let their job dictate their identity.
So, that’s the challenge.
