The other day, I received one of those Social Security statements in the mail, in preparation for the upcoming birthday. It struck me I've been working, and thus paying, for Social Security since 1992. This is my 19th year of working. I've officially been working more than half of my lifetime, and have been for a couple of years. And at 33 years and 10 months, I have, what, four more decades to go, give or take? What a depressing thought!!!!!
I don't know when I transitioned over here to making this as a career, not a job. It happens overnight, doesn't it, the same way you go from 23 to 34 and you still see yourself as 17, at least on some days. It's hard to tell someone who is at that stage what things will be like, how you wind up places you don't ever think you'd be in, or remain in places long after things have passed. I think about C, who left DC 18 months ago, and maybe is returning, after a vocation didn't click. And maybe she'll go back, who knows? She wouldn't be the first to come and go and come back again. And maybe it works out differently the second time around.
A job is a paycheck; work is a way of life. In between is what matters.
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