Fifty

Fifty. That number looms menacingly in her mind. She is almost there. What has she done with her life? Absolutely nothing. All the choices she made as a young adult turned out badly. The man she married abused her. The career she chose caused such high cognitive dissonance, it drained her. Now she was tired. And sick with at least one chronic disease. What should she do now?

Fifty. She doesn’t have much time left. All the things she picked to shake things up turned out just as moldy. A new love fling ripped open the old wounds and added more trauma. The new job was different but ended up boring her soon. It was no new career, dead end that it was.

Fifty. She still has not learned to chose wisely. She isn’t even sure if that is possible within the system that constrains her. There is no escaping the system. She is stuck.



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