Is it strange that I get excited about work? Sometimes I wonder. I really do love to work, and I love that I get to do a little drafting at my job now.
I know it's not a glamorous field, it's not the most challenging work I could have gone into had I decided to skip having a family. But I decided to spend fifteen years doing the family thing, so I didn't pursue the masters in engineering that I know I am fully capable of, that my sixteen-year-old self imagined I would do.
And so I'm just in the fledging beginnings of a career where most people starting this level would be 20 years old. But all that doesn't get me down. I am really excited at the things I get to do.
I am excited that I am finally on this path. It's been right here in front of me for twenty years, but I was behind this locked sliding glass door. I could see the road out there, calling me, beckoning, I wanted to go out there so badly and play, but I knew I had to wait just a little longer. I had duty to attend to, cares and responsibilities that outweighed my desires and longings.
And now I am still savoring that exhilarating moment like that when the door comes open with a pneumatic hiss, you hear that sound and you're like a child waiting anxiously to run out to the playground after being indoors for hours for some boring sermon. That tip-of-the-moment ecstasy, of tensing your leg and ankle muscles to take off flying, free.
I can imagine my leather-soled oxfords hitting the ground running. That's where I am. And I love working.