|
Royallyoutfitted.
| |
|
Memoirs
April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 December 2011 January 2012 March 2012 April 2012 |
Monday, April 28, 2008, 12:48 PM
promise me
In my unemployed, semi-delusional state, I had somehow anticipated that getting a job would be easy - that having someone pay me to do something I loved would be this simple five-minute endeavour that ended in my having a really swanky office, my parents boasting to their friends in the produce aisle about what a success I had become, and mountains of cash lining my bank account. The Real World (a.k.a "Life Outside of Campus") has been looming ominously overhead while I've studiously tried to avoid the fact that sooner-rather-than-later, the party will be over and it'll be time for me to get a job. To get a life. Don't get me wrong: I'm not that aimless girl who has no clue what she wants in life. Make no mistake, I know exactly what I want: I want my life to get started already! I'm sick of sitting in a holding pattern waiting for things to happen to me - I want to make them happen myself. This much I know about myself: I love my family, friends and Qamarul. I can easily spend the whole day with them and think I've found the meaning of life. I know I should exercise, but I hate paying to go to a gym, and I'd rather be eating popcorn and pretzels while watching an overdue episodes of The Hills on sidereel. And last but certainly not least: I want a job. I want a life that doesn't involve me asking my parents for money and a job that makes me feel like I'm actually doing something worthwhile. But more than anything else in the world: I want to be independent. And I want it to happen now. What I'm scared of is becoming a disappointment. Of turning into one of those people my friends' parents talk about as "having had so much potential" and then just missing the boat. I'm scared that I will graduate, diploma or degree in hand, and do nothing worthwhile with it. I'm scared that my life won't make a difference in anyone else's - that I'll be one of those people whose existence doesn't change or help anything. What keeps me from sleeping at night, is the horrifying idea that I will never live up to the "potential" that everyone expects of me - and that I expect of myself. Well, nothing helps misery like spreading it. And I refuse to be a disappointment this early in the game. I'm not going to fail my "potential." Yet. |