“Seize the Day, putting as little trust as possible in the future.”
I feel the need to explain myself a lot. I wish I didn’t have to. But if I don’t, nobody seems to understand. Instead of interpreting what I mean and how I feel by what I do, people (most especially my mum) seem to decide what they think I should want and what they think I need is best for me.
And I have to ask, is it really the best for you when it makes you unhappy?
I don’t earn a lot. I know that. I know my mum thinks that I should earn more, get a better job and a better wage like Master Berserker. Recently she has begun pretending that I don’t have a job by telling me that I need to get one.
I have one.
I’d like you all to know that I LOVE my job. Yes, most days I nearly get run over. Yes, there are some irritating kids out there who think they’re oh so clever. Yes, it rains and snows and gets windy and I have to stand out there in the most shite weather conditions. Yes, there is a very big puddle on the corner where I stand and, yes, I do get splashed by said puddle on quite a few occasions. But, you know what?
I love it.
I love standing there and doing something that’s worthwhile. I love the fact that people are happy to say good morning or hello to me and then thank me for standing in the middle of the road and stopping the traffic from running them or their kids over. I love the lady I work with for every minute of conversation and every joke and every knowing glance we share. I love that the motorists stop and let us go first because they care for the reason why we do what we do.
I love talking to the kids about what they’ve done, their upcoming birthdays, how it’s the first time they’ve walked home or to school alone, how they’re glad we’re there, what they’re going to have for tea when they get home and who they’re waiting for. I love the conversations with the parents even if it’s only about how cold it is, how sorry they are that they’re late or how their day has been. I love seeing the month old babies being wheeled in their prams. I love the fact it makes me smile.
And all this makes my day.
In fact, it makes my year, because I’m finally doing something I enjoy and I feel proud of.
I don’t know how else to explain it to people. I’m a lollipop lady. I’m glad I am. And I don’t want to swap it for something with more pay and more misery.
Since I started at my job, I’m more confident. I feel like I’m worth something. I feel like I can, eventually, succeed in my dreams. I have more respect for myself and people seem to have more respect for me. I’m not completely invisible and I’m not completely alone. I can get there to where I want to be. And yeah, it’s going to take a while and I’m going to have to scrimp and save and be patient, but isn’t that MY CHOICE?
And that’s what I’m doing. I’m seizing the day.
I’m trying hard to live my dream and bugger the rest of you if you don’t want me to. I’m sorry, mother, if I’m such a disappointment because I didn’t stay on at university even though I’m clever enough. I’m sorry I’m not chasing a pot of gold so your grandkids (steady…) can be rich.
I just want to be me.
I haven’t felt like me in so so many years… but I’m not that lost sheep any more. I’ve found the path I want to take and this time I’m certain of it.
And sure, I may come off as unhappy sometimes, but that’s because I worry about all the people in my life that I care about and their happiness. And even though I want to make my mum happy, I know that following her advice and getting better paid jobs with longer hours and less time to be creative WILL make me unhappy for a very very long time.
And where’s the sense in that?
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