Is it necessary to excel in all facets of life?
I’m just wondering because it happened again; someone told me I am too “smart” to be employed at the gym.
“You’re wasting your time,” she stated, “Go back to school, you’re not too old.”
Gee, thanks for throwing in the not too old part. Seriously, though, why do I have to have some high profile, high stress, career? Can’t I be happy without it? I feel happy, a little stressed at times, but happy none the less.
I like writing what I want to write and occasionally having something published. Yes, I know I should kick it up a notch, but I guess I lack ambition. Either that or I’m afraid of success (which is totally possible). I know in my heart of hearts that I will never write the great American novel and I’m okay with that.
My other full-time job is, well, still a job. I’m still a mommy. I still have a chickie at home who needs me. Granted, she needs me to drive her here and there, to give her money for Starbucks and the occasional movie, and to
Then there is Master Smiley and his brother The Game Master who will descend upon our humble dwelling in April when Soldier Girl deploys to parts hot and sandy. There will be more clothes to wash, more homework, more driving, more laughing, loving, living, to do. If I returned to school would I have time to play legos with Master Smiley? Trust me, at forty-one; I really have to work to learn Guitar Hero. That’s going to take some time and I don’t think classes at my local community college will help me achieve rock star status.
And as much as I hate to point this out my FIL is getting older. He is requiring more help here and there and I know whose shoulder he’ll lean upon. Funny that. The man makes me stark raving mad, but when it comes down to it, I’m the one. Sigh. I’m the one who drives him to doctor appointments when he needs “an ear” to listen to the doctor. It’s me who trots upstairs to answer some mundane question about his printer, the internet, or how to cook a pork roast. Yeah. It’s me and as time passes, I can see my role as caregiver increasing.
Am I too smart to work part-time for peanuts at the gym? Maybe, but honestly I don’t think so. This is not a high stress job. It requires me to know the facts of the job and to do it well. I need a bright and shining outlook and a desire to better myself while helping others to do the same. It’s not brain surgery, Mr. Spock, but it is fun…Most of the time.
See, even at the gym, a place I’ve come to love, there are bitchy folks. Not my fellow employees, but there are members here and there that have totally crappy attitudes. They remind me of what it’s like to work in a traditional office with a group of women: the snotty remarks, gossip, and just plain meanness of it all. Why would I want to trade a job I like for a job that features small, petty, nasty women for EIGHT HOURS PLUS A DAY?
I don’t want that. I hate that. When I was twenty I took it. I took it because I had to and I was too insecure to tell someone to bugger off. That’s not the case anymore. When faced with a difficult person now I try to be friendly but if they throw snark my way, I laugh and move on. I don’t need to deal with the drama. It eats up too much energy and time.
So, in regard to whether I am “too” smart to be employed at the gym, I’d have to say the opposite is true. I have a job I love with fellow employees who rock. The members are a group of women who, for the most part, are vibrant, happy, interesting, and down right funny. The hours I work are very conducive to family life and I’m happy. Seriously, who needs more than that?
I think I’m way too smart not to work at the gym.