What's a diva to do?

Years ago, someone somewhere told me they could read palms. So, like any good self-absorbed diva, I thrust my palm into her hand and quite uncouthly demanded that she 'do me'. She stared at my palm, looked up and me and said, 'well, you're going to live a good life - but it will be short'.

Uh...yeah. I'm not kidding. And this is why I don't go to psychics, palm readers, tea leaf readers, roadside quacks, I-can-tell-your-future-by-the-number-of-hairs-on-your-sweater folk.

It's also why I've decided that, as I make my approach to birthday number 34, I'm well overdue for my mid-life crisis. So cue the strings, people, it's soul searching time!!

First, let me preface my remarks by saying that I love my job. Have for years, still do. But I'm kinda getting close to hitting that wall - you know, the one that just jumps into your career path every few years in an effort to make you either alter your course, or smash into it, head-first.

Given a choice, I'd really rather prefer to do the former.

It's not that I'm actually looking for a new job - on the contrary. I don't want to leave where I currently am - I totally love the people I work with, the 'clients' I interact with daily, and the cause we all work to eradicate.

I've just glimpsed that wall in the distance, and I'm really not sure how to navigate it this time.

You see, this particular wall is a little different than others I've faced in the past. This one has me pondering if what I'm doing for my daily bread is what I SHOULD be doing for said bread. I'm way beyond second guessing my chosen profession, at least I thought I was, but for the first time I can understand the statistic that says the average professional will change careers (not jobs, but careers) three to seven times during their working lives. I've been in the same industry since I started contributing to Canada's tax system...is it time for me to make the first of my three to seven moves?

And yet, the more I ponder it, the less I believe I need to completely refocus to be happier. I DO love what I do, and can truly see myself working in the industry in one capacity or another for years to come. But I do know something is missing...somewhere, I'm just not entirely fulfilled in my day to day working life.

Home life is fantastic - newly married, new home, a relative degree of financial security, my very own purse room....what more could a girl want? Maybe the 'success' of my home life has just allowed me to direct more mental attention to the other side of my being's coin - my work life.

Since starting this blog, I've really gotten back into writing and being creative. I love the thrill of it, the way words just drip from my digits and magically pool on my screen. I must admit, I thrive on the feedback I receive here (I read and internalize every comment, you have no idea - this is but one curse of divahood) and nothing feeds a diva's queen sized ego like positive reinforcement.

Which brings us back to my midlife crisis - is it time to explore what else I could be doing with my working hours? Is it time to put my money where my sexy pout is, and see what just might happen if I give writing a serious shot? Maybe, maybe.

And then again, maybe not.

I think I'll try to tackle this particular wall one brick at a time (decked out in a tiara and boa to ensure onlookers will recognize me without question) so as to avoid the painful whiplash-y spasms head on collisions are known for. I think I'll attempt to supplement my working life with more creative avenues in my down time as opposed to just up and leaving the security (both financial and...well, financial - this diva's got a mortgage to pay) of my 9-5 daily grind.

'Cause let's face it - after all this pondering I realize two very important things: I'm nowhere near ready to up and abandon my day job, and whiplash can really mess up your sleep patterns. Lord knows I'll need all the rest I can get if I'm gonna try to make a go of this whole writin' thang in that urban myth we like to call 'spare time'.

But at least I'll know I've tried. And who knows - maybe this time, as with our attempts to get pregnant, the joy truly is in the trying.

And that's your daily dash - how's your diva doin'?