Do You Ever Feel...

Ten points from Slytherin if you thought this was going to end with a Katy Perry lyric.

Does anyone out there ever feel like all the things they're good at are meaningless? I mean, as far as being able to use them to forge a living where you actually get to do what you love as your job?

I apologize if this gets all braggy, but I so seldom feel like I'm worth bragging about (aside from my assorted baking triumphs detailed here...though remember I also point out the failures!), that I think it's okay this time: I am a fairly good poet; I am a rather talented writer; I am a very good alto; I am extremely creative; I am a kickass baker. But what the hell does all of that amount to? Yup...the basic "dreamer" type. Not really the type companies are eagerly seeking.

I am not a math whiz, my scientific base is standard, though it does err toward above-average where meteorology is concerned. All of the skills that are practically and readily sought out by places that pay you money for using those skills have totally evaded me. Sure, I make a comfortable living as an administrative assistant, but saying that that is my profession is sometimes like chewing on tin foil. It hurts my teeth to have to chomp it.

I should say this: I am very good at my job. The above-listed talents mean I am also a natural people-person. I have great communication skills that somehow in the professional setting transcend my otherwise social awkwardness. So yes, in a small way, I am leveraging my "gifts" into a career, but not necessarily in the most gratifying way.

I'm not saying doing what you love for a living is a fun-fun-carpet-ride with no drawbacks. I've read enough from people who love baking and bake for a living who reach a point where they get frustrated that their passion sometimes, and often, has begun like a chore. Writers can get so caught up by deadlines or assignments that they may worry they are compromising the reasons they got into the biz in the first place.  It happens. It's real.

There are obviously ups and down on both sides of the coin. I am comforted by the fact that I can continue to write, sing, bake, and tinker as hobbies, and so those activities never feel tired or forced or tin-foily. The fact that they remain beloved hobbies tempers my discontent and frustrations in the workforce.

But some days...some days I really do close my eyes and picture opening a little tea-and-sweets shop along the Irish Atlantic coast, where I can be covered in flour all day and I can fill the walls with quotations from my favorite writers and watch patrons sip and munch while watching the Celtic weather outside... I should also point out I jump right to the part where my business is so successful I no longer have to wake up at 3am and do all the work myself. No, no...I like the bit where I can roll up to my well-oiled machine, where I have cute little Irish lassies and laddies employed to take care of the small tasks and I get to design menus and create new recipes. Hey: it's my fantasy! Don't hate.

And then when the fantasy is over, I realize I'm back where I started, feeling utterly stymied and stuck and unsure how to turn what I love into a more fulfilling career path, or how to feel less useless. Because I often feel useless. My talents are who I am--I am a poet and writer. I am a baker. I am a singer. But I feel like I have to throw a veil over all of that from 9-5 Monday-Friday cuz dem bills ain't gonna pay themselves. I also often realize I have no idea what sort of real-world work I would find appealing and fulfilling. Which is, perhaps, even more crippling.

And so, my non-existent readers, if any of you are of the artsy type (or any type--I have a hunch this is an existential and interdisciplinary crises!), and if any of you ever feel this way, too, please offer advice. How do you temper the frustrations? How have you found ways to make your talent-hobbies more of talent-livings? Am I totally crazy? (Maybe don't answer that last one...)