Choices

I can do anything. My choices are endless. I can vote, fight, work, travel, be educated, own property, wear pants, get divorced, prevent pregnancy, and have children without a man. Thanks to Mom, Grandma, great-Grandma, and great-great-Grandma I am free to live a life of my choosing, and it scares me to death. My whole life I have taken my freedoms as a right, and always did whatever I wanted. But now, at 28, I have no idea how to get what I want, and find myself wondering what it would be like to live in a time when life came with a rule book. At least I would know what I was supposed to do with my time.

I’m working 37 hours a week at a brainless job for an hourly wage. My schedule is determined week by week, and my superiors are about 50 years behind on women’s lib. I know that this is not what I want, but I’m stunted by my other prospects. Should I submit my resume a million times over just to end up in an identical job somewhere else? Have I spent my whole life doing whatever I please just to end up a slave to the hourly wage for the rest of my life?

I find myself waiting for that dream opportunity to present itself, or for all the pieces to fall seamlessly into place that lead me toward a successful and fulfilling career. Then, when the time is right, and that time will be obvious, I will decide to have children, have no trouble getting pregnant, and have the perfect family. All the while, my job will be waiting for me, or be the kind of job that I can do during nap time, so that I am able to raise my children exactly the way I want to. Everyone will wonder just how I do it, while staying so together and so grounded. And my teeth will stay white and my breasts will never sag.

While great-Grandma was busy voting, and Grandma busy taking the pill, and while Mom was busy picking out her “power suits”, and all of them telling me how lucky I was to be able to do whatever I wanted, someone forgot to tell me just how to go about it. I’m learning that wanting things isn’t the same as getting them.

Posted by Mrs. Sweatpants