i think more and more as i get older i'm realizing that i know hardly anything about myself. i am not really unsure or insecure about myself, i just can't really figure what i want yet.

after my dreams of becoming an opera star were squashed by an irreversible nodual condition on my chords, i think i gave up. i had planned out my life by the years, knew which country i'd be in, knew what kind of wallpaper i'd put up. then i left school and i was in a free zone. did i become a doctor and start all over? did i live with my parents until i was forty? i had no idea.

i've surprised myself with the things that i want. i never imagined myself married and was content to be the 50 yr old woman sitting at a diner with friends. i wonder sometimes if i was disloyal to myself for caving. i realized, though, that the girl who didn't want to get married had yet to find anyone worth marrying.

in buying our new home my husband has asked me- what do you want? he meant- out of the house, out of life, to make me happy. i couldn't answer him then and i still don't know. sometimes i come up with pseudo-interesting things to do, or pretend i want to do, like join a dance class. but nothing seems fulfilling. i work in a job that i like and i moreorless want to stay there forever- i have no career asperations. i feel happy when i'm reading a magazine or picking out paint colors.

i'm becoming someone who doesn't really worry about or plan for the future. this is the antithesis of the old me. not that i necessarily live transtemporally, but i do live for the day. i don't usually look at tomorrow as any kind of obstacle or option.

having said that, i read an article justifying my vascillating, self-analytical behavior. women only "discover" themselves by the age of 30 it said. so i've got 5 more years of this to go.

2006-01-08, 9:45 a.m.
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