As good as it gets

It has been a while since I sat in front of my laptop and banged out a blog. Not because there is not numerous topics that I could opine on but I just have not felt the need or better yet the desire to write. I know, I know.... A writer writes. And I guess that is the thing, I really don't know what I am… definitely not a writer. As a guy that was worked in one job for 20 years and now finds himself looking for a second career, the anxiety starts bubbling to the top. What am I really good at? What I am I passionate about? What will make me the most money? These are the question I am asking myself now where I have never had to ask them before. It seems simple doesn't it.... to answer those questions. I have never even thought about those questions but they are difficult. I guess I could fall back on the high school answer: Baseball. That would get me money, I was good at it and was very much passionate about it… not so much now. I go back and forth with my friends and their teams… side bar, I was at the Braves v. Mets last night and Pedro beats us… sad day in Muddville…I’m back. The truth is I worry about not having passion about things anymore. I listen to politics that used to have me throwing things at the TV and I just change the channel now. I have a hard time thinking about anything that requires me to move outside of my daily track. I am not challenged at work and that is ok…. In years past I would have been standing on my boss’ chest saying exploit me…. I am bigger, faster, stronger than all these punks you got surrounding you… not now. I come in at eight and I leave at four. Now all that could be that I am retiring and moving on and not wanting to be encumbered by extra stuff as I exodus the service or what if this is as good as it gets… what if I have already peaked. You know like a tournament team having a good February and then running the tourney because they are on a roll. What if my first forty years was my peak. I kind of thought that I had fifteen good years left in me maybe fading away into the sunset at fifty-five or sixty. What if this is it? It sounds like I am whining. I really am asking a legit question. What if there are just a few more pieces of the puzzle left? It is not like you get to substitute pieces of your life and make them fit it the wrong places. I am not ready for as good as it gets……