Today’s my birthday. I’m 46.
I thought it was only appropriate to step back and review how I managed to make it this far, smiled at the joys, sighed at the sorrows, and overwhelmingly survived the odds.
On my birthday, I’m always struck by this line from a song that goes …… “every 10 years or so I looked back on my life, and have a few laughs”
How true is that?
Its foolish, I think, to sit back and have a “plan” for your life. I do think though, that it’s prudent to set goals and to try and reach them, assuming you have learned one thing, which is ….
What do I want?
Fortunately for me, I thought learned thought learned that by the time I was 40 or so, I knew what I wanted in life (or is it pretentious to say that?). I dont want gobs of money (untrue, I do need a substantial amount to settle my debts). I dont want a fancy car (just something decent with four wheels and economical). I dont want too high-a-profile career (just the salary without the pain-staking responsibilities boleh tak?).
I only know I want happiness. Safety and security for my kids. And flexibility in my career.
I’ve spent all my career years being employed. Should I make my mark? Should I plan or develop a business that I can be proud of that will generate income and stability for my kids and I? After all I am already in my late 40’s.
What do I see for my 50’s? Whats my Best-Case scenario?
“Dib, walk into my office at 4.30pm this evening. Your confirmation is due. We need to assess your performance”
My birthday theme song – HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME by Bright Eyes
All eyes on the calendar
Another year I claim of total indifference
To here, the days pile up
With decisions to be made, I’m sure all of them were wrong
Into this song I send myself
And with these drinks I plan to collapse
And forget this wasted year, these wasted years
Devoted friends, they disappear
And I’m sorry about the phone call and needing you
Some decisions you don’t make
I guess it’s just like breathing or not wanting to
There are some things you can’t fake
I guess that it’s typical
To cling to memories you’ll never get back again
And to sort through old photographs
Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know
And there below
His frozen face
You wrote the name and that ancient date, that ancient date
And you can’t believe that he’s really gone
When all that’s left is a fucking song and
I’m sorry about the phone call; and waking you.
I know that it is late,
But thank you for talking, because I needed to.
Some things just can’t wait.