(previously published 12/13)
It’s a new time in life for me. I recently quit a job I hated and am home again after 10 years in the work place contributing to our income in order to help put our daughters through college. I enjoyed it! I was a retail store manager (working my way up from associate). I didn’t know when I started that I could be successful at this. It was a good feeling, rewarding, accomplished, making me feel self-confident and successful. I enjoyed many of the people I worked with, will have them as lifelong friends or minimally be connected to them via Christmas cards and Facebook. I was beloved by many of my customers and do and will miss them terribly. I loved selling clothes, it was fun. I had the opportunity to help women look and feel better than they ever thought they could look or feel. I was honest, I was creative, I was inventive, I had a sense of style and I made them feel like they were the most important people in the world to me while I dressed them.
The job I hated wasn’t fashion it was fine jewelry. When I left fashion I took a job in a major accessory chain that outfitted women in grand style for very little cash. That was also fun but it was tiring and the hours were crazy so I took a job in fine jewelry via a charismatic store manager who ditched me after 10 days on the job! She lured me in with promises of large commission checks and the sparkle of real jewels then abandoned me when a better offer came along. I felt adrift in a sea of sharks. I began to doubt my ability to do anything right. The women I worked with walked on the wild side and were tired and cynical using bullying tactics to get their way. Without my champion of a manager I couldn’t cope. I began to nickname them. The Chicka, The Crone, The Bimbo, The Slut…it wasn’t pretty. I knew I needed to get out or I would end up like them. So on a Wednesday I did the unthinkable. I texted the new store manager that I wasn’t coming back and I was done. I never did anything like that before and I hope never to again but it was liberating and it felt right.
Now I don’t know what to do with myself! I can’t seem to motivate myself to tackle any of the projects at home that need me (though when I left I was planning to whip this place into shape with a vengeance). I’m weary and tired all the time; I listen to Spotify and spend too much time on Facebook; take naps; cook; clean when I must and do laundry. Days can go by and I don’t leave the house and I wear the most comfy things I own without regard for how I look. At least I shower, most of the time.
Loosing weight is something I need to do, want to? Maybe. Exercise is on the list, my doctor would love that. My cholesterol is high and she’s been after me for years to help reduce it naturally. Quilting is something I’ve always wanted to do, have collected a vast amount of literature, magazines and scraps in the hopes that one day I’d have the time to learn. Eh, maybe. I used to sew and craft all the time but it’s uninteresting and costs money which right now is in short supply (having reduced my contribution significantly). My body hurts too much, its nap time.
Writing is also on my list, it’s deceptively difficult. Both my daughters write, they express themselves beautifully and since I homeschooled them I must have the same talents right? I mean, my Christmas letter is everyone’s favorite! Receiving my letter is almost a status symbol for crying out loud! You’d think I could write a blog, book, editorial, musings on life etc…I know I’m capable but can I actually put thoughts together that anyone will read? Does it matter if someone else reads what I write? Is there a purpose to it?
I’ve been married 32 years; lived in 7 cities and twice as many houses; raised and educated 2 daughters; gone through physical illnesses and lived/loved a man who tackles clinical depression daily. Been in numerous churches and served in various capacities. Entertained; hosted; fed; served; fellowshipped with and loved many people over the years. There must be something I have to contribute somewhere, somehow. Can it make me any money? Hmmmm.
So what’s a mom to do at this Not Ready to Retire and Not Yet a Grandma time in life?