(no subject)
Writing is always the hardest; I don't know how to begin things. Probably the reason why this is the 3rd paper this week that I am starting in the middle of the night. It's due in 4.5 hours. 7 pages in 4 hours, on a topic I've stopped paying attention to halfway through the semester. *shrug* could be worse. But I am still here instead of writing the paper.
I am nervous about graduation. Nervous is not the right word. Apprehensive. And not about graduation, but about what will come after. I have no job lined up, not even a crummy one. Grad school is out of the question until I figure out what it is I want to do there. I do not know what I want to do. Not just in grad school but in world. Too many people have too many expectations and too many aspirations for me. This would not really be a problem if I had clear and certain expectations and aspirations for myself. But certainty eludes me. Teaching could be perfect for me, but so could be getting a law degree and working for Lambda Legal. Or even local government, now that I'm allowing myself to explore the political field. Even the medical world still holds its charm. And I'd be a liar if I said that money doesn't make a difference, or the freedom to be able to get on a plane and go where ever i need or want to be. If not for my family, I think I could very happily be out selling my body somewhere. Maybe we'd find I had a talent for dancing. Or maybe, and possibly more likely, I'd be a black-clad Mistress with a whip and a briefcase full of chains.
Sigh. The morning grows and still no paper.
I am nervous about graduation. Nervous is not the right word. Apprehensive. And not about graduation, but about what will come after. I have no job lined up, not even a crummy one. Grad school is out of the question until I figure out what it is I want to do there. I do not know what I want to do. Not just in grad school but in world. Too many people have too many expectations and too many aspirations for me. This would not really be a problem if I had clear and certain expectations and aspirations for myself. But certainty eludes me. Teaching could be perfect for me, but so could be getting a law degree and working for Lambda Legal. Or even local government, now that I'm allowing myself to explore the political field. Even the medical world still holds its charm. And I'd be a liar if I said that money doesn't make a difference, or the freedom to be able to get on a plane and go where ever i need or want to be. If not for my family, I think I could very happily be out selling my body somewhere. Maybe we'd find I had a talent for dancing. Or maybe, and possibly more likely, I'd be a black-clad Mistress with a whip and a briefcase full of chains.
Sigh. The morning grows and still no paper.