I am Karan from Olympia, WA.
Almost every other name used here is a pseodonym pseudonim pseudonymn alias.
The rest of it is true - mostly - and all of it is my own.
Don't even think about taking any of it, unless of course, you want to pay me.
Random Wisdom: The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it - Henry David Thoreau
The counter says that 2846368 have been flummelized, but I personally think it's all a big lie.
It’s been a week now and I can really truly report that I don’t miss working full time at all. My VISTA (Volunteer in Service to America) service ended on Aug. 27th and because AmeriCorps stopped funding the position I had with HSR3 (Homeland Security Region 3), I was the last VISTA. That’s how I refer to myself now, The Last VISTA, dramatic ain’t it?
The ending was anti-climatic...as it should have been. Because the funding for the work remains and only the position to coordinate it is gone, I worked hard to lay tracks for those who are permanent employees and yet...it was hard to leave it all in their hands. My plan is to continue in a much smaller volunteer role but already I find myself less driven to make sure all the T’s are dotted and the I’s crossed. : )
Now, yet again, the question is begged...what do I do with the rest of my life?
If When I win the lottery, I plan to buy an apartment or cottage in countries around the world. I’ll spend the first few years just shopping for places I’d like to spend time and then the next few years buying my new abodes and then I’ll spend the rest of my life living in them. That’s my plan. My first apartment will be in Venice. I know that for sure.
Now that I’ve got a plan, I’m sure that golden ticket will come my way.
I’m beginning to think that this 55th year is my year of oy. You know what I mean, some people freak at their 30th, some at 40, etc. I sped through those birthdays with nary a care. 55 is hitting me differently because I’m all a’flutter evaluating me at this point in my life.
Most of this seems directly related to my professional career life. Am I all that I’m going to be? Have I blown never-to-return opportunities? Am I too old to do still undone things?
Mostly I feel like I’m not to old to pursue new adventures but realistically I’ll never climb Everest or even have another baby. I’m OK with those things...but now my age reminds me that it’s unlikely I’ll ever enter medical school - not so much a result of my own limitations because I am pretty sure I have it in me to accomplish such a thing but because it would be a battle with others to embark on such an effort. Frankly I don’t want it bad enough to fight for admission and fair consideration and that career option is not the only one unlikely because of my age. I can’t join the army. I don’t care about that either.
The real truth is that I believe that I can still make any sort of career change....but how much do I want to, especially considering that the taped finish line that is retirement is coming into view? I must remind myself that I have followed a gypsy sort of career path, one that even at a job’s longest never went beyond 10 years so I may still have at least one new career before me, maybe even 5 or 6.
My sense of self and courage and gutsiness came to me later in life. I do regret that I was such a slow learner. I suppose that these are the things of maturity and maybe I’m finally getting there. FINALLY!
A long time ago my Grandma told me that she didn’t feel as old as she was/looked. I believed her but I didn’t get it.
Now I do. As I slam the accelerator down on my double nickels date coming up next month, I’m experiencing that same sense of disconnect that my Grandma shared with me so long ago. Even though I get frequent reminders that I’m no longer the saucy young woman I once fancied myself and sometimes my morning bones ache like an ancient Babylonian’s, Karan, the younger version, still lives and breathes inside.
I’ve had many reminders that I am deluded. Last year when I was tending to my niece, the doctor asked if I was her mother. I was stunned! Stunned to my socks stunned. Inside Karan felt more peer than parent. OK...I did the math and yes, I am indeed old enough to be her mom, but still.
After that the world started reminding me of the truth. Like lovely young Leslie, who happily told me that I reminded her of her grandmother...and all those VISTA volunteers who don’t automatically include me in conversations...who patiently wait to find out why I’m sitting at their tables. My brain tells me we’re peers, their eyes tell them I’m a parent.
I like to think that I can worm my way into their good graces and win peer value in their world. Some I can, but always it is an extra effort, nothing unplesant - just an effort to prove that I’m more than my increasingly webby neck. I sure hope that I didn’t do that to my elders. I suspect that I did.
There is a benefit to this aging thing...I’m finding that younger people are stepping forward to help me out with physically challenging efforts like loading and unloading the heavy gear I use in CERT training. That part I like...but I want them to forget all about it while I convince them I’m really truly a young person trapped in this aging body.
have been used to pay for the production this bit of brilliance…
Yeah, I know, I had 10 minutes to come up with something.
Sorry, it was for Disaster Preparedness Month.
Almost from day one my supervisor has been pressuring me to opt for a second year as a VISTA volunteer. I was never highly flattered by the encouragement in fact, if anything I was made cautious by the attention. Usually I just smiled politely when she reissued her invitation and on occasion, I would say something to the effect that my answer will be based on how the economy looks at the time of my decision.
Last March, my boss told me that I had to make a decision by April. A couple of Fridays ago she got her answer and nope, I’m not coming back. Her reaction is something I didn’t expect...she seems almost gleeful...she tells everyone who comes into contact with us that I’m not coming back hahahahahaha.
I’m not quite sure how to take that...but the truth is that if she’s really really pleased that I’m not returning for a second year, perhaps it is that she’s tuning into my own delight.
Life is sometimes funny like that.
