If I Could Only Be The Editor…Oh Yeah, I Am!

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Today I am working in the cafe on my birthday. It seemed appropriate, and since I couldn’t get anyone else to cover, I dove right in. I am thinking more about the post the other day, the one about what I am thankful for now that I’ve reached this milestone of 50.

The point I left out was the satisfying part of this age. I no longer am trying to figure out what I am doing. I no longer read help wanted ads. I no longer hope that someday I’ll be an editor. I have sad memories of my previous jobs; as the paste-up guy who wrote freelance and hoped to someday have an editor’s job. Or as the advertising sales guy, who really wanted to write articles and be the editor. Or the salesman, alone in his car, driving around looking for customers, again, wanting to be someone else.

Often Cindy will groan when I tell her one of my old worn-out stories of how I used to sell that guy t-shirts, or how I had to wait so long for that other guy to finally buy from me. Oh God that feels so long ago, and it is so wonderful to never think about who wants to buy from me, and where anyone gets their goddamn t-shirts!

Now every day I do exactly what I was meant to do…and nothing I don’t really like. I love coming in to the cafe and to my office, and love the young people I have working for me, and being around my little grandson.

Am I rich? No, not in money. But yes in life, yes!