Adam (aodh) wrote,

  • Mood:

oh god I'm having another existential crisis

Have you ever sat down and realized that there is very little overlap between the things you're good at and the things you like to do?

For instance, I am amazing in English. My analyses are stunning, my insightful observations are eloquent, my creative writing is downright amazing. But that all bores me. The occasional analysis, a short story here and there--that's okay. Any more than that is a nightmare.

To continue this pathetic ego-stroking, I am also pretty good at learning foreign languages. French has its moments. Learning Italian was one of the easiest things I've ever done. Russian is difficult but entirely worth it. I love languages: I love speaking them, I love reading them--I love being able to communicate. I might not be good at it, but I love it nevertheless.

Of course, there's that nasty issue of how just knowing a foreign language probably won't result in a career, unless you have something else to bring to the table (e.g. engineering, business, political science). Hence the reason why I picked up the CMDS major: it led to a career, I could be a respectable part of society, I had a path in life. It didn't sound too awful. Of course, it's also incredibly boring and mind-numbing, but that's a completely different journal entry for a completely different day.

I'm not a people person. I'm not good at math or sciences. Politics are boring. 9 to 5 jobs sound downright depressing. Cubicles have had starring roles in my worst nightmares (right next to the family of giant vampire weasels and World War IV: America vs. Everyone Else). I enjoy learning new languages, traveling the world, learning about new cultures... but how am I going to experience any of that when I'm stuck in Assrape, Missouri?

The only thing college will be good for is getting a worthless piece of paper. It's not like I'm going to have a nice office job with 2.5 children and a white picket fence. Odds are, this time 10 years from now, I'll be teaching English in some obscure country, experiencing linguistic bliss, or trapped in a concentration camp in North Korea (or, fuck, Guantanamo Bay). It's a bunch of bullshit is what it is.

I just don't know what to do. And now I have to get ready for work, which is yet another reason why I need to drop out and join the Russian mafia.
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