How did that happen? And... now what?
I remember being in elementary school, cutting and pasting drawings to go along with my writings. I was going to be a writer, an author, whatever. I had a fantastic imagination.
In middle school I turned more towards personal stuff, websites, always online diaries. I was going to be an essayist--a la Burroughs and Sedaris [not that I knew who they were yet]... just not so funny.
High school? I was the editor in chief of my school newspaper and ruled with an iron fist. I wrote the opinion pieces, put it all together, and got more into magazines.
Starting college, I figured I'd end up at a big fashion magazine. Then the industry began to melt away, and I stuck to fashion business instead--though still somewhat toying with the possibility of going somewhere with my Psychology major.
Here I am, graduated from college, so over the idea of going to 7 years of grad school to become a psychologist, and about to enter into the real world, the work world, the next 40+ years of my life.
It's hard to believe that this is what we've all been working sooo long and hard to get to! Doing all my silly assignments and taking all those classes and working all those unpaid hours... I'm proud to look at my resume, my transcript, so I think it was worth it... But was it necessary? Sometimes I wonder how much of our lives we throw away trying to prepare for things we end up not doing at all. What happened to just living?
Now, we've programmed ourselves to have thirty arms, thirty one mindsets, and endless to-do lists. Suddenly, I have to switch gears from multi-tasking personalities and possible futures to doing the same something for much longer than any of my semester or summer long internships.
I'm excited and endlessly nervous to switch to this new kind of life. I just hope that I learn how to make my own path, now; figure out what I'm working towards for the next 22 years..