My mother was always the mind your own business type. The no-nonsense type. She had a plan and she stuck to it. I never knew how she could possibly fit so many tasks into one day. I liked to take my time. But that’s probably why I wasn’t nearly as successful as my mother.
At least not as successful as she would like me to be. As one who excelled in work and in getting promotions, she was always mystified I had no longing to be a CEO or bank president. I liked to work and I liked my job, but under no circumstance did I want to be in charge. I had no patience for the problems that needed to be solved. I liked to be able to do my job without having to deal with the drama of those around me. I just never thought I was nice enough to care as much as I should.
I wanted to coast – do my job, obviously – but what was the point in stressing over work and not having any free time? Joy and happiness did not get attached with my work life. I did like my job, but as soon as 5 o’clock rolled around, I was walking out the door and to my car. If I wanted my life to be my life, I would not spend it at work. My mother had and my father left, just as he had left me.
Standing Room Only 