Salvaging life

Ever since I was little I haven’t had a clue about what I actually wanted in life.  Granted a child doesn’t necessarily think too broadly on the subject, but dreams are well within their grasp.  And incidentally lost in bits to more pragmatic ones as we grow older.
For example: When I was about nine I dreamed of becoming a lawyer, simply because I enjoyed arguing.  Nowadays it seems like a pointless exercise I’d rather avoid most of the time.  I’ve since lost my taste for argument, but a good debate can be a hell of a good time.

As I grew older I still didn’t know what I wanted, so I simply fantasized and was content with that.  Occasionally I’d imagine being a detective, or a fireman, maybe join the military, maybe become a doctor.  The heroic fantasies are a major boyhood dream after all.  And older still, I’d want to be an actor, singer, artist or for the more wicked thoughts, mad scientist.

And then comes your first job.

It makes you think even harder about what you want to do, because it will have to support you financially.  You still want to enjoy it though, and that’s the monkey wrench. What would I enjoy doing everyday? As the age of adulthood draws closer, being successful is a more powerful entity.  Sheer enjoyment is something kids only dream about because you’ve still ‘gotta make that money’ right?
If that’s not the best way to kill a dream I don’t know what is!  It siphons every bit of enthusiasm that used to come so naturally, and replaces it with anxiety.
But I’m ever the hard headed type, and I still yearn to enjoy my career rather than toil in contentment or misery for even a great salary.  How to choose one though?
Here I am, twenty four years old and still burning my days at your regular nine-to- five.  Going no where fast, but not messing up. I don’t have any spawn running around so I can afford a bit of laziness. I’m good.  But at that I can honestly say that fulfillment will not be coming from my job anytime soon.  I’m also not the type that reaps happiness from “working for the weekend”.
I much prefer small company, or none, but I’m not exactly anti-social, I just don’t get what other people seem to get out of it.  I still need people though, friends, lovers, random people I talk to at bookstores and the like, I mean I am just a man.  Financially awkward, and maybe still a bit immature, but whatever, I’m not perfect.  Just indecisive.

So I did what I always do, flip, decide, accept, and go.  I’ll be majoring in journalism when I go back to school in the spring, and even though I’m not sure if it’ll end up granting me my “dream job”, it’s a decision finally. At the very least I’ll still have my nine-to-five, but I’ll also have a proper writers education.  I’ll simply make use of it on my weekends.

For now you’re stuck with the uneducated version, ha.


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