50

50This was written on my birthday, one month ago.

So, today I turned 50.

And it sucks.

No, wait, let me explain. I know what some of you may say. Yes, I have my life, my health, my great job, some good friends, my taekwondo club, and my family. I’m thankful for all of that. I even have a published book an am working to have more.

Yet…

I don’t know quite how to explain it but ‘I was hoping for more’ comes close. I guess I look at my parents for an example. They were married a few years out of high school, Dad went into the Air Force, and eight years after they married, they adopted me. A few years later, they brought my sister home. Dad and mom both worked at good jobs and improved. Both got better jobs and we moved. We were never ‘rich’ but we made out all right. My sister and received pets and Christmas presents and schooling and proper discipline. (All right, I might have earned more than my fair share, but probably deserved it, too.)

I remember draping black streamers over the kitchen and dining room for Dad’s 50th. Amusing at the time. Had I been able to look ahead at what I would do.

Maybe ‘I was hoping for more’ comes into play. I had a decent job out of college but was screwed out of a good position, so I quit. Who knows how long I might have stayed had I been able to keep that morning shift at the radio station.

When I moved to Oskaloosa and started at the radio station there, I soon discovered sales was not my cup of tea. These were the days before high tech computers and Samsung phones, where I used a daytimer to keep my appointments. If that was ever misplaced, I was anxious.

Soon, they gave me a choice, either accept a cutback or resign. I ended up on unemployment until I found a job at a publishing company but wasn’t able to get into the graphic design field that was just emerging. After a couple years I took a job at a trucking company where I manage to screw up most everything I touched. That didn’t last but eight months.

A year at a motel before I was hired on at the newspaper as a graphic designer, which I loved. Almost three years later I screwed up and was fired. I paid dearly for that screw up for the next 16 years working at four motels.

I’ve been at Gannett for just over a year and love it and will work hard to succeed.

Maybe ‘I was hoping for more’ comes into play in this area: My parents have been married for almost 58 years. My sister is married.

I’ve had three girlfriends. Yep. Three. In recent posts, I’ve mentioned the number of attractive women at my workplace. The unfortunate thing is, most of them are darn near young enough to be my daughters. The particular woman I alluded to in those posts is older than those others, but as of this writing, I haven’t had to guts to ask her out, yet.

Maybe that’s part of what sucks. Nobody to share my birthday with. Sure, I received loads of Happy Birthday wishes from Facebook friends and spent ten minutes thanking all of them. I received a bunch at work. But I still came home alone, went for a jog, and will now go to bed with my cat.

I was hoping to have more books published by now. But my first publisher closed and my second publisher is recovering from health problems and I’m still trying to attract another.

I was hoping I’d be living in a better apartment or house by now instead of a crappy small falling apart apartment with ‘interesting’ neighbors.

I’ve thought about this birthday for awhile and it was coming no matter what. I couldn’t change it.

Sorry, this day has been kind of a bummer and I know things will get better. Right now I see a continual walk downward with those pretty girls and 20 and 30 something good times behind me.

Good night, and thanks for the birthday wishes. They were appreciated.

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