“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”
“Euhhh….” I looked over my face a total blank.
“OK, how about next year. Where do you see yourself next year.”
“Ehhhh…” I got nothing. No answer comes to mind, and I let the conversation drift away from this awkward moment. In my mind the two questions keep repeating themselves in a torturous loop. Where do I want to be in five years or even next year?
I was still thinking about it in the middle of the night while I fed Little L in the darkened living room. I’ve been going through the motions at a dead end job for so long now that I seem to have lost all traces of ambition. It’s not even that I don’t know where I want to be, it’s more that I no longer know what I’m capable of doing, and I have no idea where to start looking.
I put the baby back in her bassinet and crawled into bed no closer to an answer, but by the time she woke me up again a tentative answer had started to loop around in time with the questions. I don’t know where I want to be, but I know what I want to be doing. I want to be writing. I don’t know what, I don’t know for whom, and I don’t care where. That’s something isn’t it?
In the meantime I should probably find a job that makes me feel a little better about myself and my talents. Any suggestions?