buttered
sometimes what it takes is a little grease in just the right spots to get the desired result
I am one of those guys who really likes bread. I mean REALLY likes bread.
Sourdough, yeast rolls, sandwich bread— you name it, and I’ll add it to the menu for just about any meal. Pasta? more bread, please. Breakfast? why not have toast, too? Maybe with some biscuits. Indian food? bring on the naan. Falafel? Pile on the pita. If there is any bread or breadlike substance on hand, I’m already reaching for it with my next meal.
It’s one thing that I know I’ll like regardless of what else is on the plate. I’m always hungry.
One thing about bread is that it requires a commitment to condiments. Often that means butter. But just as often, it can mean hummus, olive oil, zaatr, sauce, or gravy. Either way, bread creates the perfect delivery mechanism for some of the tatiest parts of the meal.
If you know me, I’m shaped like a poster boy for gluten tolerance.
Moderation has never been my particular strong suit.
One thing about all this bread is the thirst it creates. An almost insatiable need for more that takes hold. It never truly satisfies. Instead, it comes back with powerful cravings that keep me up at night. It presents itself as an addiction that I’m working on getting under control
As I grow older, I’ve come to view my work as an addiction that I’ve fed my entire life. I’ve been looking for ways to cut out the parts I no longer need, while focusing on the parts I want to pursue and develop. Let’s face it, I’ve had an illustrious career in which I’ve experienced things in my industry that most have never encountered. There have been some remarkable achievements, some truly regrettable moments, and some memorable relationships. Through it all, I’ve been able to leverage past success to lubricate the transition from one position to the next.
Lately, something has changed.
No matter how much butter I put on the bread of my experience profile, I’m finding it harder and harder to secure next posts. It’s been a real challenge. It seems like the mountain of my past has become more like an albatross around my neck. I’ve worked so hard my entire life. I’ve sacrificed everything I have to maintain a steady presence on the field. But over the past year or so, I’ve seen something change dramatically, and I’m not happy about it.
I’ve been a bit buttered, so to speak.
As a Literature major from days gone by, I’ve always kept a wary eye on the horizon for signs of Willie Loman Syndrome. Signs I’m being patronized and put on a shelf. Signs that the old courtesies are no longer being observed. Well, it feels like that’s what’s happening right now, and it’s absolutely unpleasant.
What to do?
That’s what I’m working on now, and it’ll be the focus of this particular series.