A confession, I snark a lot. In my mind or whispered words I am constantly poking fun of what I see around me. Take me to any club, or party and I am in snarking heaven. A particular target of mine are the lost adults of my generation, many of which are Frisbee Kids. I am amazed and amused by the drama they have amongst themselves. The breakups, friends with benefits, long road trips, intermittent displays that they are “artists”, the stories of how they get fired from jobs, threats that their parents are kicking them out, way overpriced shoes with ill-fitting thrift store dresses, they are an endless source of entertainment.
They burn very bright, though with a glow, not with a destruction seeking blue flame. They fumble around looking for purpose in life, and they have been given all the time they need to find it. Unfortunately when a task has an infinite deadline it lowers the probability of ever completing the task.
Whenever we hate something there are usually a few components to that emotion, in this case it is fear and jealousy. The fear is easier to talk about, I fear that with a few missed steps in my timeline I could be exactly where they are. If I had decided to go back to my parents during the divorce rather than immediately getting an apartment, if I had not settled on my major when I did. If I had decided to wait on going to graduate school. Any of these things could have completely altered the course of my life.
The jealousy is the harder emotion to sit with. I have a course to my life, and it seems the longer I am on it the harder it is to leave it. Not that I have any intention of that at this point, I am so far from chaos, new opportunity and choice that I wouldn’t know what I would want from it. I doubt I could find anything better than what I already have. Though having a vector is tiring, everyday I push forward in the same direction. The goal is to push as hard as I can, because nothing new will happen until I get to the next part of the journey.
There is something to covet then, in not being caught in the current. To be dancing in the dark, not knowing what you’re looking for, not even being able to see it if by chance you stumbled into it.
Truth be told there was a period post separation, at my previous job where I considered putting my entire life out in the wind. I hated the job, I hated having stuff, bank accounts and money. I had plenty of friends who were professional drifters and squatters. It would be easy to temp a bit here and there make enough money to pay rent for some hole in a warehouse, my cell phone bill, and car insurance. I entertained the idea off and on for a few weeks.
Again when I was forced to change jobs it became a real option. Except a little piece of me fought like hell. I sat at my desk at my last job and looked for that place that did what I dreamed. I interviewed and got the offer. I had no choice but to take it. I couldn’t find the light switch, I couldn’t completely dislodge the anchor. Those things were in my mind, and I couldn’t unlearn them.
I had to have a course to follow, because I already had one.
My parents are fascinated by tales of frisbee kids, I stopped by their house on my way home from work. I said, “I wish I could go on a road trip for two weeks and not have to worry about rent, or work.” My parents laughed at that, the sarcastic statement followed their question of what adult child would choose to live with their parents. It’s not a terrible reason, to be able to live with flights of fancy, nice shoes, nice cell phone, no responsibility except wherever your gas tank can carry you.
Of course, my parents have that, they are in their early 60s, they travel all the time. It’s this thing called retirement.