The Problem of Being an Artist… or a Kid Trapped in a Woman’s Body. Like Michael Jackson, but a chick and none of that weird stuff. So, not like Michael Jackson I guess.

So I met some people who looked young and somewhat cool, but who also acted very professional today.  I started to wonder when I would ever grow up.

It’s something that is supposed to happen, I think, but do I want it to?

I scoured Google on the subject of never growing up and found this was relevant while also funny.

I mean… I’ve been paying my bills on time for nearly a decade (ok let’s say I started 7 years ago because I feel so much younger) and paying for gasoline and insurance even before that!  Adult, right?!  I was responsible, went to school to become a real live professional at something and ended up… somewhere short of that so far.  It was a great waste of money that I didn’t have available to me though, so who could complain?  I am engaged and we own our own home.

I still don’t feel like I could be an emotionally detached person who is all-business.    I can’t even picture being a mom, although I do want to see what a tiny clone of me and Miklos entails even if it means bringing them into the shittiest rendition of this world imaginable (and as a human, I have that right!  I still think people should require licenses to birth their children for this reason, by the way).

My body is decaying.  My legs are sore and tired and veiny and the backs of my knees are eczematous.  My pores are dilating rapidly and I have a permanent tension headache from trying to understand what made the majority of people so cool with being inconsiderate dinky-weiners.  I break a new toe every day/week if I’m lucky.  I don’t drink pop, I mostly drink coffee, milk, water, and sometimes juice if I’m feeling a little rambunctious.  I have the Weather Network site bookmarked, I have always read the news on a daily basis, and I check obituaries frequently.

All of the above SCREAMS old person.

I just feel so much like a kid.  I want to enjoy life and make sure those around me are having fun too, not focus on some stuff that only matters to a tiny niche group of people who get paid big fat dollars.

Is there such a thing as being a professional and not feeling like a giant phony? I can do it for a living, but it feels like I’m an appropriately paid actor doing slave labour.  Would it change if I wore a suit and tie (or a skirt and … whatever women call blouses now)?

There’s just so much more to enjoy in life than being a stuffed-shirt nobody who thinks they’re big poop.  Maybe one day I’ll grow up and be all right with this cocky business lifestyle.  I’m really, really hoping not though.

About Nikki

I've been writing since I was in kindergarten where I Crayola-markered an epic tale of a tiger and a balloon on a stack of lined papers folded into a booklet and stapled along the edge (carefully, and by my teacher). I love DIY, sewing, folksy music, animals and getting out to look at and listen to nature.
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One Comment

  1. Thank you for this

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