These flowers look how I feel today. I'm afraid I may be approaching the end of my career. I don't know for certain what's going on, but suddenly it seems my agency's relationship with my client isn't as solid as we were led to believe.
All of this is going on at a level that is far, FAR over my head. So there is nothing I can do to rectify the situation. But I can worry. I'm good at worrying.
I still haven't paid for my September dental work. I need new windows. I'm looking at years of special assessments for this condo to pay for a new boiler and a new roof. My a/c got me through summer 2019 but I have no confidence it won't crap out before spring. My niece is getting married out of town next fall.
This is not a good time for me to find myself involuntarily retired. And I do suspect that's what will ultimately happen. I'm going to turn 62 next month -- I'm at a dangerous age in the advertising business.
Maybe it's time. I still often enjoy my job, but I also fantasize a lot about what my next chapter will be. I'd like to stay home and work on apartment. I'd like to do volunteer work, but I can't afford to do that exclusively. What kind of part-time work will I get?
It's the lack of control that is making me nuts. I want to know what's going on. I want to know what's on management's radar for me. I want to know how my world will look six months from now. I'm not good at not being in control. That's why I'm feeling all droopy and purple, like the flowers on my table at Soprafina today.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Friday, October 04, 2019
October Challenge -- Day 4
I'm joining Ms. Kwiz for her October blogging challenge.
Day 4: Concerts or gigs I've watched. Nothing will ever touch Sir Paul at Wrigley Field, Summer 2011. My favorite guy in the world at my favorite place in the world. I bought the best seat I could lay my hands on, so I was actually on the infield, where my Cubs play, listening to Paul sing "All My Loving." Bliss!
What's more, he showed up here just as I was panicked over my upcoming surgery. So he delivered me respite, just as my most enduring romantic hero should.