Settlesettlesettle
So I decided today to go with St. Bonaventure. I liked the school. I liked Ithaca too, and admittedly I liked the area a whole hell of a lot better than Olean, but there's one resounding point at the heart of my decision.
I'm broke as fuck.
Being broke as fuck, and having parents cursed with the same malady, I am forced to consider my higher education from a financial standpoint, rather than the simple, straightforward, "reach for the stars and be all that you can be" standpoint. As such, the offer Bonaventure made to pay for over half of my college education (not including outside scholarships that I haven't heard from yet) was a very inticing offer indeed. Careers in journalism don't exactly start (or end, I suppose) with a very flattering salary, and so the whole "I'll incur the debts now and just pay them off with the college-fueled super-job I get as soon as the degree has been attained" gameplan just fails to work for me.
I keep reassuring myself that college has never really meant anything to me. This is true. Essentially I only see it as the next monumental pain in the ass to come my way, having to uproot myself and start completely anew with new friends (maybe) and new hassles (definitely). I'm not even sure if journalism is what I want to do anymore. In all honesty the only thing I know FOR SURE is that I love writing and I want to do it when I "grow up" as if that will ever happen. I'd love to be a novelist, but the truth of the matter is that no novelist can put food on the table unless they can crank out a decent seven books per week like Stephen King. No. The truth is that if you want to use words to make a living, you probably can't do it writing only what you want. But at least I know roughly what I want to do.
I'm not pumped for next year. I wish I could halt the rotation of the earth and live in a contrived fantasy until I grow tired of it and hurl myself into the icy black clutches of total oblivion. But hey,
If wishes were fishes...
I'm broke as fuck.
Being broke as fuck, and having parents cursed with the same malady, I am forced to consider my higher education from a financial standpoint, rather than the simple, straightforward, "reach for the stars and be all that you can be" standpoint. As such, the offer Bonaventure made to pay for over half of my college education (not including outside scholarships that I haven't heard from yet) was a very inticing offer indeed. Careers in journalism don't exactly start (or end, I suppose) with a very flattering salary, and so the whole "I'll incur the debts now and just pay them off with the college-fueled super-job I get as soon as the degree has been attained" gameplan just fails to work for me.
I keep reassuring myself that college has never really meant anything to me. This is true. Essentially I only see it as the next monumental pain in the ass to come my way, having to uproot myself and start completely anew with new friends (maybe) and new hassles (definitely). I'm not even sure if journalism is what I want to do anymore. In all honesty the only thing I know FOR SURE is that I love writing and I want to do it when I "grow up" as if that will ever happen. I'd love to be a novelist, but the truth of the matter is that no novelist can put food on the table unless they can crank out a decent seven books per week like Stephen King. No. The truth is that if you want to use words to make a living, you probably can't do it writing only what you want. But at least I know roughly what I want to do.
I'm not pumped for next year. I wish I could halt the rotation of the earth and live in a contrived fantasy until I grow tired of it and hurl myself into the icy black clutches of total oblivion. But hey,
If wishes were fishes...