I've always said I'd rather have time than money. And for most of my adult life, that choice has served me well:
I've had tons of time for the things I love, like making art, blogging, reading, watching movies, going out for coffee with friends, volunteering, sleeping, and thinkin' about stuffs.
But is this still what I want?
I don't know. At midlife, I feel that all that wandering around thinkin' has granted me powers that I could put to good use in some kind of work.
Work that pays decent money.
I really don't know, though... I've never pursued money. But now I feel it would be nice and really useful to have some more of it.
Just lately, for instance, I've been thinking about moving somewhere nicer, since the slumlord of the house next door keeps renting to nocturnal people with anger issues.
Also, my apt. is falling apart. I've lived here 13 years, and the landlords, who are lovely people and my pals, have repaired almost nothing. They don't repair their part of the house either, so it's not personal or anything.
But it would be such a treat to live with windows that aren't falling out of their casements!
Radiators that get hot!
Stoves that don't give off a mysterious gassy odor that the gas co. insists is safe!
Taps that don't drip!
A fridge that seals!
Etc.
But the thing is, my crummy little apt is insanely cheap. I'm almost embarrassed to say. ($475. For everything, even wi-fi and laundry. And I split that with Marz. )
This is important because I've barely made any money in the past dozen years. Besides preferring time to money, I can see, looking back, that my life force was pretty low for a long time after my mother killed herself. (Huh.)
So, even supplementing my earnings with money I've inherited (thank you, relatives), I've hovered at or under the poverty line.
The other night when the neighbors were yelling at each other, I thought, I don't want to live this way.
It scares me to think that way, though, because it really has worked so well for so long. But I looked online for apartments to rent--they mostly cost almost twice as much, but they look so nice. I'm actually going to look at one tomorrow.
May as well look.
I also looked at jobs.
The ads mystify me though.
Could I be "a cross-functional team leader fully capable of initiating, creating and executing global campaigns across multiple channels"?
Maybe? (I don't actually know what that means.)
So, I don't know, don't know, don't know...
But it seems desire is pushing me toward change, one way or another...
Desire may be the root of suffering, in one sense, but in another sense, it's the fire that gets watery people like me to move.
__________________________________
This is more what I think of when I think of going to get work:
Bye, baby bunting,
Father's gone a-hunting,
Mother's gone a-milking,
Sister's gone a-silking,
Brother's gone to buy a skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.
I've had tons of time for the things I love, like making art, blogging, reading, watching movies, going out for coffee with friends, volunteering, sleeping, and thinkin' about stuffs.
But is this still what I want?
I don't know. At midlife, I feel that all that wandering around thinkin' has granted me powers that I could put to good use in some kind of work.
Work that pays decent money.
I really don't know, though... I've never pursued money. But now I feel it would be nice and really useful to have some more of it.
Just lately, for instance, I've been thinking about moving somewhere nicer, since the slumlord of the house next door keeps renting to nocturnal people with anger issues.
Also, my apt. is falling apart. I've lived here 13 years, and the landlords, who are lovely people and my pals, have repaired almost nothing. They don't repair their part of the house either, so it's not personal or anything.
But it would be such a treat to live with windows that aren't falling out of their casements!
Radiators that get hot!
Stoves that don't give off a mysterious gassy odor that the gas co. insists is safe!
Taps that don't drip!
A fridge that seals!
Etc.
But the thing is, my crummy little apt is insanely cheap. I'm almost embarrassed to say. ($475. For everything, even wi-fi and laundry. And I split that with Marz. )
This is important because I've barely made any money in the past dozen years. Besides preferring time to money, I can see, looking back, that my life force was pretty low for a long time after my mother killed herself. (Huh.)
So, even supplementing my earnings with money I've inherited (thank you, relatives), I've hovered at or under the poverty line.
The other night when the neighbors were yelling at each other, I thought, I don't want to live this way.
It scares me to think that way, though, because it really has worked so well for so long. But I looked online for apartments to rent--they mostly cost almost twice as much, but they look so nice. I'm actually going to look at one tomorrow.
May as well look.
I also looked at jobs.
The ads mystify me though.
Could I be "a cross-functional team leader fully capable of initiating, creating and executing global campaigns across multiple channels"?
Maybe? (I don't actually know what that means.)
So, I don't know, don't know, don't know...
But it seems desire is pushing me toward change, one way or another...
Desire may be the root of suffering, in one sense, but in another sense, it's the fire that gets watery people like me to move.
__________________________________
This is more what I think of when I think of going to get work:
Bye, baby bunting,
Father's gone a-hunting,
Mother's gone a-milking,
Sister's gone a-silking,
Brother's gone to buy a skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.
Money is a terrible motivator for me, too. I like having enough not to worry, but that's about it. I like buying stuff, at a discount or second hand, and having sufficient not to have to think too hard about it. But money itself? Meh. I lose all interest.
ReplyDeleteI stumbled upon work that pays me a living wage, so I'm content. Sheer luck, that.
You are lucky---that's great!
ReplyDelete