When under pressure, when filled with self-doubt, when looking for answers to questions yet unknown . . .

I’ve embarked on yet another new adventure. Not at all sure how I feel about this one, because it’ll draw on skills and strengths I’m not certain I have, at a time in life when others are unlikely to see them any clearer than I can.

That’s right, I’m a middle-aged artist about to go job-hunting again. Haven’t done that in a couple of decades. Not sure that what I’ve done in those long-ago days even counts as real job searching, since each time it was necessary for me to seek work it tended to find me before I had to struggle extensively with what I understood to be the normal process of job hunting. Do I have marketable skills? God knows. Are people with job openings going to take a chance on hiring and training me, despite the fear of a short shelf life that might be instilled by my [beautiful, and well-earned] grey hairs? Me, I plan to live a long and action-figure-like adventure well into the unforeseeable future. But I sure don’t know what form of employment that will involve.

I certainly didn’t foresee the various paths on which my previous lives have led me. I’m delighted with where they all crossed and converged to land me at this point in life. So perhaps I have unreasonably high hopes that I’ll hit the jackpot yet one more time. I’m funny like that. Never mind that I haven’t had paying work that I really loved–at least, that I thought loved me back–in most of my adult life. I’m thinking I’m due. But I’m chock-full of that malarkey too. Given how insanely generous the universe has been to me thus far without any particular regard for purpose or logic, I’m planning on yet another dose of unearned magical wonders to be showered upon me. Hear that, yoo-nee-verse??? I’m up against it, and looking forward to being bailed out by fun and miraculous happenings big enough to surf me right along into far-off retirement.