Many Aspirations, No Tangible Career
The days seem to pass too quickly, while simultaneously they seem to drag on. There are 168 hours in each week. Forty to sixty hours are spent, wasted, given, sacrificed, all for an hourly wage. Another forty to sixty hours are allocated to the unfortunately necessary but ultimately wonderful sleep. Surprisingly, there are still fifty to ninety hours remaining! How is this possible? It certainly does not seem to be accurate.
My days are structured along a semi-regular schedule:
6:00. Wake up, get ready for, and drive to work.
7:00 to 15:30. Work.
15:30 to 17:30. Drive home, eat, play guitar, entertain cat, drive to other job.
17:30 to 20:30. Work, again.
20:30 to 23:00. Drive home, play guitar again, eat, shower, read, sleep.
There are days that do not have to go to that second job. Sometimes, I do not know what to do with myself because I am not used to that freedom, so I just waste it. Often I will waste it trying to find a different job, a different apartment, how to get into law school, tips on living in one's car, reading the news, browsing Reddit, playing FIFA, and other random and ultimately non-constructive activities. I have become quite reclusive in that I do not seek the company of others, but I still am saddened by my loneliness. What am I doing wrong? What did I do wrong to end up here? A single twenty-seven year old college graduate working a seasonal Park Maintenance position and part-time at a gym. I am a registered substitute teacher, but realized that I am not exactly a great role model for children. I'm more like the fun aunt. I do not enjoy rules, so it is often conflicting when I must enforce children to obey rules I find arbitrary.
I do not think that I am useless; on the contrary, I believe that I have valuable insights, but do not know how to share them with others. I lack self-confidence; therefore, I tend to belittle my writing and speaking skills.
What do I choose to do with too many of my fifty to ninety hours of "free time" each week? Often, I wait for opportunity to come rapping at my chamber door, but the only rapping that has come has been from my landlord or the Gas Company Conman. I tend to stay in my apartment, a miserable hole on the second floor, encased in paper mache and annoyed by my ridiculous neighbors. I crave change and detest routine and complacency. Perhaps I fear it for some reason.
What career can you have as a shape-shifter? How can a transient find their way? Is this a classic case of being so overwhelmed by options that one ceases to make a choice? Is it merely an illusion of options?
As of yet, it is not conclusive.
My days are structured along a semi-regular schedule:
6:00. Wake up, get ready for, and drive to work.
7:00 to 15:30. Work.
15:30 to 17:30. Drive home, eat, play guitar, entertain cat, drive to other job.
17:30 to 20:30. Work, again.
20:30 to 23:00. Drive home, play guitar again, eat, shower, read, sleep.
There are days that do not have to go to that second job. Sometimes, I do not know what to do with myself because I am not used to that freedom, so I just waste it. Often I will waste it trying to find a different job, a different apartment, how to get into law school, tips on living in one's car, reading the news, browsing Reddit, playing FIFA, and other random and ultimately non-constructive activities. I have become quite reclusive in that I do not seek the company of others, but I still am saddened by my loneliness. What am I doing wrong? What did I do wrong to end up here? A single twenty-seven year old college graduate working a seasonal Park Maintenance position and part-time at a gym. I am a registered substitute teacher, but realized that I am not exactly a great role model for children. I'm more like the fun aunt. I do not enjoy rules, so it is often conflicting when I must enforce children to obey rules I find arbitrary.
I do not think that I am useless; on the contrary, I believe that I have valuable insights, but do not know how to share them with others. I lack self-confidence; therefore, I tend to belittle my writing and speaking skills.
What do I choose to do with too many of my fifty to ninety hours of "free time" each week? Often, I wait for opportunity to come rapping at my chamber door, but the only rapping that has come has been from my landlord or the Gas Company Conman. I tend to stay in my apartment, a miserable hole on the second floor, encased in paper mache and annoyed by my ridiculous neighbors. I crave change and detest routine and complacency. Perhaps I fear it for some reason.
What career can you have as a shape-shifter? How can a transient find their way? Is this a classic case of being so overwhelmed by options that one ceases to make a choice? Is it merely an illusion of options?
As of yet, it is not conclusive.
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