I was seriously hoping it would be rosey apricot or periwinkle, because those colors look really good on me.
But it wasn't that kind of a book.
In my quest to find a new life, I borrowed a copy of What Color is Your Parachute from our downtown library. (I use the downtown library now that I'm in the city. No more 'burbs for me. I left the suburbs when I ditched the Volvo station wagon.)
The subtitle of the book is "A Practical Manual for Job-Hunters and Career-Changers," so I thought it would give me some good advice. I was wrong. Instead, it made me feel, well....useless. Washed-up. More than halfway to death. Seriously, there's a whole chapter on "50+" and how employers will think I'm old and boring. After all, why would I bother to switch careers now? Why don't I just keep plugging away at what I've been doing, even though I am philosophically, intellectually and morally opposed to what education has become? Can't I just keep going a few more years?
The answer is no. And if you don't think I'm good enough to do your job, you're wrong.