Ten years later, and still angry at times

My dad would have been 85 yesterday.

That's if he hadn't died just over 10 years ago.

Having had my previous newspapers of publishing sold out from under me, albeit with landing on my feet again, now is as good a time as any to reflect on anger over my career of sorts and other things, and connect it to "dear old dad."

Trying to follow in his ministry footsteps, with him passively at times making sure I stayed focused on that, and actively at other times working to cut off other paths, like finding and tossing a partially filled out application to New Mexico Tech to study astrophysics ...

Then finally "escaping," and it being too late, realistically, to do other things academically, especially with a guilt-tripped brain, even as he let me move back in with him ...

I accept that this is where I am. I accept that I'm not poor, even though I hate being in a crumbling profession with anxiety over the future fueled by PTSD.

Yeah, I'm angry. Relative lack of job security at age 50-plus isn't fun. Neither is having a job that doesn't pay ... oh, not a lot, but, say, $5-10,000 more than I actually make. Neither is not having a job, and a career path, that I didn't more actively choose.

Above all is having a dad that steered me away from this — and a mom that allegedly divorced him because of this, but had no real post-divorce interventions.