Should I ......nah.....Maybe I'll.....I don't know.......

I have a close to impossible time making big decisions. Small decisions are easy enough. I can generally even breeze through mid-sized guys, but the big ones, I'm about as good at making them as Sarah Palin was at convincing her daughter to be abstinent.

I'm currently trying to muster up the decision making cojones to start a new career. What with the economy in a downward death spiral, the fact that I'm no longer 25 (or 35 or 45, by the way) and my utter and complete fear of failure, I'm plagued with not only debilitating indecision, but also way too many possibilities.

Advertising was an ideal career for me. Getting paid to wear jeans and think up ideas all day was impossibly fun. And even better, I was good at it. The people were interesting and funny, the late night camaraderie was addictive, the paychecks were awesome. I loved the whole darn thing. But at 52, I no longer lust over the possibility of winning a One Show Award or getting the new CA in the mail. I still work for clients, but the adrenaline, excitement and passion I used to get when I walked into an ad agency, or started a new project seemed to have faded like a pair of light wash $250 jeans from Hudson. And the whole idea that all I'm really doing is trying to sell stuff to people that don't really want it, doesn't sit well with the "desire to help the world" side of me.

And so I search. What can I do with my skills: my keen ability to turn a phrase, my desire to make people laugh, my strategic thinking, love of shopping, passion for design, inability to keep quiet for more than two minutes. What should I do with my addiction to helping people, my adoration of kids, my desire to make the world a better, happier place to live? Do any of them pair up to form a career path?


I have been digging like a mad gardener, to understand why I can't make a move to try any of the things I have considered spending the second half of my life doing. I have used my hands, large shovels, even a pricey therapist. For instance, I have been toying with the idea of opening a small store for the past 10 years.FOR. 10. YEARS. Yes, it's now been a decade that I've been thinking about it. And I have for the past two years actually had what I like to call a party thing, which is that I had a party and sold stuff there. It was successful. In fact, quite successful, but still, I cannot get myself out of the foggy land of indecision long enough to make the move to open up shop. Why? Well, way down, really far, somewhere in the center of my stomach lies a familiar voice that says, "A store? A STORE? What are you thinking? This a terrible idea. You don't know a thing about it. You're going to lose every cent you put into it. That's stupid. YOU'RE STUPID." What I realize is that the voice is my negative, alcoholic dad's voice. And while I long ago gave up my desire to please him, I have unwittingly not given up the recording he implanted right in the center of my stomach. And boy does that thing get a lot of play.

Now it seems to me it should be easy to just tell myself to stop listening to the voice, right? Turn it off, unplug it, THROW IT OUT, but apparently it's not just a voice, it appears to be part of my dna, like my olive skin tone and the weird toenail on my right foot.

And so, I let all the possibilities marinate, killing each of them one by one with the voice.

sick, sick, sick of being sick

feels like i've been sick for lots of my life. with chronic uti's as a child, followed by chronic strep throat, followed by horrific menstrual cramps, followed by a back problem, followed by endometriosis and infertiltity, followed by any virus, flu or germ out there visiting me for way longer than acceptable or normal, i have been in bed more than a prostitute in vegas.

if you're bored, you're probably boring

i'm afraid i've fallen into the path of least resistance. that is to say, i'm lazy. i am choosing ba tv over reading, or going out, or playing a board game with one of my kids.

tv is like heroin, so seemingly innocent before you cue it up. "hello, my name is toni....." it's a difficult addiction to ditch, so comforting is it at night when i'm a big piece of toast and want nothing more than a staff to make dinner and clean up, while i watch the likes of rachel zoe, or project runway, or design star, or dexter. it's so effortless, so escapist, so mindless. it asks nothing of me and plays to exhaustion.

get off of your ass, toni. shut the fucking boob tube off and stop being a bore.

heat AND teenagers. oy

i feel like i'm in a toaster oven

whoa, dog days of august? first of all, it's september, second of all, it's more like the-viking-stove-on-broil days of august, thirdly, i'm having the worst hot flashes of my menopausal career. AND both my kids have teenage brain, which i've come to partially understand as a repeat of the toddler years, but with a better vocabulary and a bigger attitude.

i'm not having fun.

if men had to deal with menopause, i can tell you that there would be help for it by now and i wouldn't be suffering the moodiness, bloating, relentlessly dry skin, wake-up-at-3:00-in-the-morning, mental impairment that i'm square in the middle of. no, i feel sure that men would solve this joyous time of life and move through it quickly so they could get onto better things.

and teenagers. well, they don't really prepare you in any of those child rearing manuals for the heartbreak. the revulsion your face seems to incur, the just plain lonliness.

it's a thankless job, this motherhood.

all in all, not a great day. or time for me. but i will prevail. i will continue the good fight. and likely, i might feel a little bit better tomorrow.

i tell you, i need to have this shopping party thingy so i can sleep through the night again. for the past two weeks, i'm up like i have a crying baby in the other room and, well, this shit just has to stop. i'm tired and wired at the same time.

it's a good excitement, except for this waking up. i am revved up, inspired, and scared, but mostly in a good way. fear is ok if it's motivating and this is. i am conversely worried about no people coming and too many people coming. having too much stuff, and not nearly enough. it's a wait and see little game.

in the mean time, i'm up here at 4:25, wanting to slumber, but feeling like there is a firecracker inside me. plus we have mice again and i live in fear of those little critters.

ok,turning this off and counting sheep (wearing jewelry from the sale).

wink

thursday is my little party shopping thingy, as i've come to call it. i'm excited, nervous and tired. overall, however, i'm proud of myself that i'm doing something that's a step toward a goal, a dream, a new career. proud that i'm just taking the dive. here's to it. fingers crossed. i've already succeeded.

head case

i hate being sick. i've been sick a lot in my life. and every time i get sick again, i feel like there has been no time in between and i have always been sick. of course, this is simply not true, but it feels true. and sometimes, that's really all that matters.