Would it be ok, if this was it? I mean, if I do not get a "better" job, if I grow older on my own in a foreign country on quite a low (though so far sufficient) income? If I spend the rest of my working life at the bottom end (literally) of the service industry?
Most of the people I meet here in Brussels speak a minimum of two languages; some speak four, five or six. Most of the people I meet are highly-qualified professionals, or have a skill-set that fits a particular industry niche. It does occur to me, at times, that the odds might not be in my favour. So is it all right, where I am? Well, I saw four bunnies all together this morning, and that rather made my day. But for every bunny-sighting there can be hours of tedium.
I have never been ambitious. Not through laziness, although I do a very good lazy. As a migraineur of 38 years' standing - successfully medicated only for the last three of those years - and a spasmodic mental, my main aim in life has been to stay employed and employable. I am glad to say that I've succeeded in this and have never been out of work, or off sick for any considerable time.
My most recent job was something I really quite enjoyed and which my brain used like an imperfectly-equipped gym. At times I swear I could actually feel my neurons getting more muscular. Now I rely on this blog to keep my head fit, and reading through the contents of the wardrobe.
This might be as good as it gets, and is that good enough? What does "good enough" mean? I am not qualified to do anything at all, although I nearly achieved a life-saving award in 1980. At the end of the day, does it matter what you did before the day ended? There are currently three small children who are going to grow up with a dim, evanescent memory of my ready kisses and cuddles, and my singing loudly to them in the street, and my wittering endlessly about parakeets and diggers. Although outside a very small domestic sphere this is not considered important work, it is important work.
Is it enough? I'll get back to you.