I always thought I would have the opportunity to announce my retirement. Instead I had to face the reality of no longer being relevant. There would be no joyful celebration, only sad resignation.
December 4, 2020
Ignite 12/4/2020
Lest any readers think I’m not aware that I am but one of tens of millions, please know that I am aware that tens of millions like me bought into the lie that the American dream was accessible to anyone who put in blood, sweat and tears and that at the end of that investment, I would be rewarded with smooth economic sailing into my autumnal years, biding my time reading and writing in my other home in the mountains or by the shore or traveling around the world.
Today, that’s a load of bullshit. Also, there’s this fucking worldwide pandemic. If I had better knees and hips, I might qualify for a job at an Amazon warehouse.
Yes, I’m disenfranchised, lost and pissed that I have, in today’s corporate parlance, “no agency.” If you think I should get over it or stop bitching . . . please stop reading, because I don’t give a damn.
Create and maintain your own blog and bitch, bitch, bitch all you want.
I believe that I may have asked too much of the American Dream. I probably should have aimed for a home with a dishwasher.
There are no words. I’m sorry.
You are brave to comment, Susan.
Back in the day when I conducted corporate writing workshops and was Somebody, I shared that the two most important words in the English language after the words “I’m sorry”, were the words, “Thank you.”
Thank you for your empathy which these days is the most valuable and healing gift we can give each other.
Your words have been with me all weekend. I am so sorry that your dreams have been dashed on the shores of American reality. I don’t believe that the next generation holds such dreams anymore, which is probably a good thing, but also sad. Take good care, my friend.
Just catching up. I hear you. Bitch away. Then notice that something inside you is also listening. xoxo