I’m going through a sort of mid-life crisis. I recently accepted a new job and subsequently packed up the Brooklyn apartment I purchased and renovated. I seem to have stowed away some of my dreams of artistic success along with it. I now live in the City of Unbrotherly Love and commute every weekday to an “officle” where I focus my attention on executing someone else’s vision. I’ve been trying to find the common thread in my life that makes it all make sense.
I am, as the old proverb says, a jack-of-all trades and a master of nothing. During a night out with my new Philly transplant girlfriends, one friend said to me, “Oh my God. You’ve done everything!” I know that’s not true. I’ll never run a marathon or hike Mt. Kilimanjaro. But I do seem to be a perennial dabbler. (Sadly that habit extends to my lovelife too.) Some call me wise (there’s probably some sort of ageism in that description but I’m going to overlook that for now). Some say I have ADD (as a sibling of someone who truly does I’m always freaked out by how often this label is tossed around). It’s true that I’ve reinvented my identity numerous times: from a wannabe rock star to a wannabe film director to an actual healthcare advocate and documentary producer; to an entrepreneur (another label that I find is tossed around far too often) and now a run-of-the-mill corporate citizen. (No, I’m not a sellout. I needed health benefits.) And in my journey I have accumulated more outrageous stories than the best fiction writer could make up. I’ve also managed to absorb a lot of information about health-related topics that have been a matter of survival for me. I’m the “go-to girl” on certain subjects.
Whatever the subject, everyone in my life has pleaded with me to just start writing stuff down. It recently occurred to me that this could be the common thread I’ve been searching for. So, here it is! Welcome to my world. I’m glad you decided to be a part of it.