The last week has been pretty full to the brim of lots and lots of thought. I've been thinking about the tiny house, my future job, kids, relationships, locations, and how I want to be remembered after I die. Like I said, lots and lots of thought.
It started last Friday. While I was hanging out with my friend Jordan, he told me about an interview for a job that he didn't feel excited about, but he still wanted it. I asked him why he would pursue something that he wasn't passionate about? Through a much longer explanation, it basically came out that it was the "grown up" thing to do. Which, of course, started my thought-cycle off and going, with me barely holding on to the handlebars.
Is building a tiny house another way for me to avoid "growing up?" Is it really reasonable to expect to be able to move every couple of years and still have a "grown up" job? While I was talking to him, he said that subbing was a job for people who were either looking for full time work or people who were retired. What does it say about me that I have been thinking about just being a sub?
So, after wrestling with this most of the weekend, during which I played at a haunted corn maze, and spent time with the boyfriend that I would like to grow old with, but can't, I came home and my dad started the cycle going again. We were discussing something about ages of things, and dad looked shocked that I am turning 27 this year. He said, "oh wow! You really do need to grow up." Now, I'm pretty sure that it came out completely wrong because if you know my dad, then you know he's really not the most eloquent of guys, and occasionally he forgets to think before he speaks. But whether or not he meant it to sound that harsh, it did. Then he told me that I need to figure out what I want to do with my life so that I can start budgeting toward it. Sound advice, except for one thing. I don't know what I want to do with "the rest of my life." I'm not a prior planner. I make snap decisions, and I fly by the seat of my pants. This is part of me. For instance, my decision to eventually build a tiny house. I didn't do the research and then decide. I decided and then did the research to figure out how to do it. That's just the way I am.
Then, there's the babies. I am at the age when all of my friends start having babies. Two friends have had babies in the last six months, and two more friends, plus my sister-in-law are pregnant now. There is a lot of "baby talk" going around lately, which started the cycle once more.
John, whom I love with all of my heart and never want to be away from, has two kids. He does not want any more. In fact, he has had a vasectomy to ensure that no more kids can happen. Being 42, I guess it's understandable. The kid raising part of his life is done. But. I'm not sure about the kid raising part of mine.
When I was younger, I always wanted to be a mom. In high school, I would say that I didn't want to get married but I wanted kids (my parent's marriage was going through a rough time when I was in high school). Up until recently I always figured that I would go to the sperm bank if I turned 30 and hadn't met someone that I wanted to have kids with. There's the rub. I wanted (maybe want) to have kids with John. But it's not going to happen. So, do I give up on the biggest, best love I've ever had, or do I give up on kids. And, obviously, it's not quite so black and white. There are so many extenuating circumstances with us that it'd make your head spin. But, this is how it feels to me.
Everyone's been pushing me this way and that way about finding a job, "using my talent," being a grown up, having kids or not having kids. It's incredibly overwhelming. I just feel broken today.
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