I will turn 35 in a few months. Life decisions are knocking on my door and they won't go away. Even when I close the blinds, turn down the TV and hide in the back room.
Right now, my career is stressing me out more than anything. I applied for, a promotion I'd guess you'd say, and didn't get it. Which is fine. But now I'm faced with contemplating the choices I will have to make down the road in order to move forward. That's a good thing, I suppose, to have some options rather than none. However, the end result will most likely mean relocation, and I just can't talk myself into doing that at the moment.
Pmo and I love our home. We love our yard. We love that we don't have a cookie cutter house right on top of two others. We love the neighborhood. It's not that we have a bunch of get-togethers, block parties and whatnot. We only know a few of our neighbors, in fact. We just like where we are. We're very content, so why rock the boat?
Years ago, a move was no big deal. I moved to college, went back home for a bit, then on to Owensboro, Bowling Green, Madisonville, Evansville and finally Newburgh. Next month, we'll celebrate five years in this house. A place where the four of us became a family. Where Pmo learned to live with and love the dogs. They, in turn, abandoned me for his affection :)
But, it's just a house, right?
Another avenue I have yet to explore is that damn biological clock. I hear it's ticking or something. I don't know. I really don't pay much attention to it. However, I don't feel any different on the baby issue now than I did the last time I wrote about it. No overwhelming urge to hold a little piece of me in my arms. No great sadness because I don't have a child already in my life. I think I'm staying the course on this one, but it may just be up for discussion until that blasted clock finally goes off. Then I won't have to worry about it anymore.
Certain life events have made me consider having a child. The death of my grandma, the death of Pmo's granny, Pmo and me not getting any younger and what-do-we-have-to-show-for-it type thing, the reality that my branch of the family might very well end with me. Then there's what little I know about parenting: little sleep (I don't do well with that), lots of patience (I'm even worse at that) and selflessness (so I like my free time, sue me).
When my mom was 35, I was 5 years old. She didn't have a job the entire time she raised me. Still doesn't to this day. Sometimes I think the way we've lived our lives couldn't possibly be any more different. But then I think, what if she had made a decision not to have me? I wouldn't be writing this right now. I wouldn't be worrying about my career and lack of maternal instinct because I wouldn't exist. And maybe I'm biased, but that's a bit sad. Am I missing out on meeting an awesome human being because I'm too selfish with my time and energy? Not that I'm awesome. But my kid might be. Oh, you get what I'm saying, right?
Only time will tell which page I will turn next and where this story will take me. I figure the only thing I can do is be true to myself and do what makes me happy. What else is there? Now if you'll excuse me, what my self needs now is sleep ;)