Hello, My Name Is Indecisive

16 Jul

I never knew what I wanted to do, not the way that those annoying kids who wanted to be doctors and astronauts and dancers did. Sure, I had my phases. When I was young, I wanted to be a professional soccer player, actress and fashion designer, then bakery owner, screenplay writer and dinosaur as I got older. But nothing really hit me with that solid, trustworthy thunk of a peg through the right shaped hole.

Didn’t stop me from hammering though. I went on pounding those round pegs into those square holes just like that kid at day care all the moms shook their heads and clucked over. From high school to college, I tried working at a bakery, a theater, a supermarket, a television production company. My resume is littered with what could be termed “an eclectic mix” of professions and lives lived for a short time. Employers love it: “Really, you did that? You were a logo designer and a cashier? How did that happen?” See, this diversity makes me deep and interesting and flexible and terribly hirable. But, surprise-surprise, I hated each new company I tried on. I made it through every summer with a bit of humor and a dab of elbow grease; coming out of every new experience with glowing recommendations, but really just crossing another path off my list. My summers became a colossal game of dress up, where I pretended to be a satisfied adult until September rolled around again.

Can’t you just hear that hollow scrape of wood against unyielding wood? Hammer, hammer, hammer.

I could never really fathom growing up, so deciding what I was to be when this happened was a dreamy sort of nightmarish problem destined to be tackled some other time after tomorrow’s tomorrow. But, apparently, judging by how long it takes people I barely know to pop the question (“You were in Israel? That’s so cool! What’s next?”), that day is today.

Playtime is over. I can’t pretend my way into a life worth leading—that seems an excellent way to end up with mid life crisis. I need to actually consider my options, be smart, make good choices. But my arms are so tired from trying to hammer in this peg of mine that I can’t seem to imagine myself a happy future. The stakes are high, I’m playing for keeps, and it’s my life. It’s my life and I don’t want to hate it.

It’s that simple, and that paralyzing. I’m back on the playground, marveling at everyone’s confidence in the glowing phantom of their grown-up selves. I’m surrounded by presidents and explorers and baseball stars and I am … undeclared.  I am searching. I am lost.

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One Response to “Hello, My Name Is Indecisive”

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  1. Making Waves « liberalart.us - August 17, 2010

    […] the appropriate protective gear. These are the people afraid of networking, afraid of momentum, and afraid of wrong choices. We’ve all been there. It’s much easier to wear the floaties than learn to ride without […]

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