And As Our Lives Change From Whatever
Thinking about the future is seriously scary.
I'm sure I don't have tell any of you that, though. I'm sure you all know.
When I do, think about the future, I mean, I get so overwhelmed with fear that I stop. I do something else. But eventually I have to stop avoiding the question and figure out an answer. And I have this horrifying feeling that eventually has come, and I can't do this anymore. I have to start being a grown up.
I think that may be why I put my diploma in Dad's room. Every time I looked at it, I had this sense that it was important, and that it meant something more than just a pretty piece of paper. And I don't know how to deal with that. I thought it was supposed to be a world-opener, but I'm sure how much more of the world is available to me.
So I'm about to apply for a job. I've applied for three jobs since I officially finished classes. Two never called me back, and the other I blew by waiting too long. I've waited a while to do this, too, but it's not too long yet. It's not exactly what I want to do for forever, but it'll do for now. There are steps to this, and I'm trying to figure them out, but I don't have a manual, and I think I may be doing it all wrong. Someone told me to wing it, basically. And that sounds kind of nice. You know, take all of the decision-making fun out of the equation, and I'll find out if I can do the adult thing. But I'm not the wing-it type, so I guess I'll try it this way first.
I think what scares me the most is the thought of failure. I know, it sounds so dumb, of course I'm not the only one who's ever been afraid of failure, and yeah, it may feel like it's worse but that's only because it's me now. I'm afraid that I'll try, but it won't be enough. Like, somehow, I haven't been prepared well enough, or I haven't put in enough effort, and I won't only end up working in a job I hate for the rest of my life, but I'll end up in a life I hate, and I will forever be asking, "Do you want fries with that?"
I saw a show once that told the story of this woman who would walk to work at McDonald's every day because she couldn't afford gas, or to fix her car. She had five or six kids, and they survived on welfare. That is my nightmare.
I've sent the application to the printer. I guess it's time to get on with it.
I'm sure I don't have tell any of you that, though. I'm sure you all know.
When I do, think about the future, I mean, I get so overwhelmed with fear that I stop. I do something else. But eventually I have to stop avoiding the question and figure out an answer. And I have this horrifying feeling that eventually has come, and I can't do this anymore. I have to start being a grown up.
I think that may be why I put my diploma in Dad's room. Every time I looked at it, I had this sense that it was important, and that it meant something more than just a pretty piece of paper. And I don't know how to deal with that. I thought it was supposed to be a world-opener, but I'm sure how much more of the world is available to me.
So I'm about to apply for a job. I've applied for three jobs since I officially finished classes. Two never called me back, and the other I blew by waiting too long. I've waited a while to do this, too, but it's not too long yet. It's not exactly what I want to do for forever, but it'll do for now. There are steps to this, and I'm trying to figure them out, but I don't have a manual, and I think I may be doing it all wrong. Someone told me to wing it, basically. And that sounds kind of nice. You know, take all of the decision-making fun out of the equation, and I'll find out if I can do the adult thing. But I'm not the wing-it type, so I guess I'll try it this way first.
I think what scares me the most is the thought of failure. I know, it sounds so dumb, of course I'm not the only one who's ever been afraid of failure, and yeah, it may feel like it's worse but that's only because it's me now. I'm afraid that I'll try, but it won't be enough. Like, somehow, I haven't been prepared well enough, or I haven't put in enough effort, and I won't only end up working in a job I hate for the rest of my life, but I'll end up in a life I hate, and I will forever be asking, "Do you want fries with that?"
I saw a show once that told the story of this woman who would walk to work at McDonald's every day because she couldn't afford gas, or to fix her car. She had five or six kids, and they survived on welfare. That is my nightmare.
I've sent the application to the printer. I guess it's time to get on with it.
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