Lazy. That’s how I’m feeling. This is no shocker–I feel this way most of the time. Industrious is not a word you might choose when describing me. I like to take it slow and easy. If only I could find a way to get paid for slow and easy.
Here’s the thing: I’m smart, but I lack ambition. I’ve known both of those things for a long time. I’m not the type to go out and promote myself and go on and on about how great I am and what an asset I’d be as an employee or a freelancer or whatever. I have no hustle. I’m perfectly okay with that but it sometimes makes it a bitch to try to pay the bills that way, and sometimes I feel like less than a responsible adult because I so lack drive, but I always get over it.
There was a time when I had two regular part-time jobs, and I added another one on top just for giggles. I left the house by 7:30 in the morning and often didn’t get back until 8:30 or later that evening. I worked. And you know what? I had less money saved up when I was working three jobs than I did when I worked 20 hours a week at my last real job. That’s kind of nuts but true. I had more stuff, probably, but who cares? I had no real life other than work, and where’s the fun in that?
The truth is, at this stage of my life, I’d like as little responsibility as possible. I don’t want to advance my career or dress for success or be a mover and shaker. Not that I’ve ever really wanted any of those things, but certainly not now. I see that it would be good, from the standpoint of having some discipline and structure, to have a job outside the house that obliges me to get up and get going. But I’d be perfectly content to work in some mailroom somewhere–they still have mailrooms, don’t they?–and do the kind of tasks that I can just walk away from at the end of the day.
I’ve had a couple of possibilities lately, but they’re both uncertain. I don’t really want to make the investment of time into something that may not pan out.
The flip side of that is that I don’t want to make the investment into something that may pan out. There’s a little fear there, a fear I’ve held close for years–fear, not of failure, but of success. That’s a little nuts, too, but it’s something I think I have in common with a lot of folks, if they’re willing to be honest. I’m a scaredy cat and I bet you are, too. I don’t want something to interfere too much with the comfortable, lazy life I have now. See? I’ve thought this through, being the smart, completely lacking in ambition type I am.
It’s a good thing I’m frugal.
Update: I decided to quit being such a weenie and just made a call about possibly doing some freelance writing for a local publication. I feel all grown up now.