(clue-less) – adjective
having no knowledge, understanding or ability: you’re clueless about how to deal with the world
Exactly…
Besides also being one of the best movies of the 90’s it’s precisely how I’ve felt most of my life. While we’re at it, lets throw Dazed and Confused and Dumb and Dumber into the mix.
I wasn’t one of those kids who knew at an early age what I wanted to be when I grew up. I never announced “I’m going to be a fireman!” or “I’m going to be an astronaut.” I never had to be the Cowboy or insisted on being the Doctor. I was happy to be whatever. I was happy to be a leftover.
Was I just an easy-going and laid back child or were the seeds of uncertainty and vacillation already being sowed?
Grade school came and went with no “a-ha” moment. High school happened to me rather than me being an active – or willing – participant. I went to college because that’s what you did after graduation. I got a degree in broadcasting, mostly because my Mom said I had a “big mouth” and “it would be perfect for you,” not because I had a particular affinity for it.
I’ve always bounced around, lacking direction. I’ve sort of just “fallen into” things; jobs, relationships, ditches…
The older I got the more I began to worry. Who? What? When? Where? I was consumed with the “why” of my life. I was obsessed with questions that didn’t have any answers. I searched, I hunted; I cried a lot. I went to God, and back again. I looked inside and out for something or somebody to point me in the right direction.
I wasted a lot of time.
I don’t ask those questions any more. The ones that don’t have answers are off limits to me.
It did happen. I am 42. The “why” and the “how” don’t seem important.
I am much more content with being clueless. I don’t worry about what I’m going to be when I grow up anymore.
I’m just never going to grow up.