It is never very predictable, and certainly not a monologue with a single voice conveying a logical sequence of events. Life itself is more akin to a Variety Show — of singers in one moment, dancers in another; of solitary soliloquies by sometimes uninhabited corners, or a storyteller, then a story to be told; and discussions and accidents, or arguments and agonies.
The popularity of a Variety Show in its extravaganza of star-studded collections and unexpected appearances is an appropriate metaphor for the lives we live. Whether by internal sufferings or external calamities, most people live lives that reflect the tumultuous bubbles of an unfolding drama.
Perhaps you believe your life to be mundane and monotonous; wait a while, and a calamity will uninvitedly appear at your doorstep, like the unwanted third cousin who pleads to stay with you based upon some suspicious blood-ties to a distant relative. Or, maybe you believe that things are going wonderfully — until you find out that your spouse has been unfaithful, or your grown-up son or daughter has just done something that requires an emergency response.
Turmoil is often the norm and not the exception, and that is what makes of life a Variety Show.
For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the Variety Show of Life is often dominated by the medical condition itself — whether psychiatric in nature or physical pain manifested by daily discomfort and lack of restorative sleep, matters not.
Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits is an option that should be considered when the Variety Show of Life becomes a one-person act or event — like a medical condition that pervades ever corner of the stage.
Consult with an experienced attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement Law, and change the acts which comprise the Variety Show of Life before the curtains fall upon a stage that turns quiet with misery and lack of mirth, and the empty chairs echo of solitary clapping leading to deadening silence.
Robert R. McGill, Esquire