I literally just wrote about the quarter-life crisis I was having. And I mentioned that I’ve changed my mind four times in two years. Well, dear people, I’ve changed it again. Not drastically. More like dropped out of one graduate program to enter a different one. And paid 10k more. No big deal.
Sometimes you have to lose your shit to realize what the hell you’re doing. (The word “shit” isn’t going to hurt you. You hear it in movies…pretend this is a movie.)
I went through a minor (major, if you ask the boyfriend) depression/mental episode for about two weeks, and it ended at approximately 9:04pm on August 24th. I was battling between going to one school to teach humans under the age of eighteen, and another school to teach something else to humans over the age of eighteen.
As I began my first assignment for the younger human program (the one that I chose immediately after graduating college), hell hit my face. I started to feel suffocated, annoyed, and weepy. Basically, I felt like I needed to eat two cakes. It was another dramatic I have no idea what I’m doing moment.
And then my cute little mom walked downstairs. Yes, I live with my mom. This is Colorado. I’m a single parent, and there’s no way I can afford it here. Anyway, I told her I was just not enjoying the program like I thought I would. Granted, I was one day in. But I LOVE school. If you know me, you know I would rather do homework than spend a day at a Water World. I wish I could do your homework for you. Unless you’re studying Spanish; trying to learn Spanish makes me cry.
Me: I don’t think this is what I want to do. Look at this textbook! The History of Education. I can’t read this!
Cute little mom: I can’t picture you teaching high school English. That’s not who you are.
Well, that would have been great news a couple months ago. But hell! Better now than never.
So, I lasted one day in the master’s program that I chose. ONE DAY. But I can already tell I will love the other program more. Even if the job outlook is much different.
**Apparently I think I’m a motivational speaker now, so imagine I’m standing on a stage in a snazzy, yet professional, outfit. Pretend there is also a stool with a glass of water sitting on it**
You were not put on this earth to work a job you don’t love, in order to pay bills you don’t really need to have, in order to DIE. With no impact on the world. You will die. And hating Mondays for the rest of your life is really going to stink. Facebook shouldn’t be filled with “Monday” posts.
Random lady getting her car worked on: So sad. He’s a mechanic, for heaven’s sake. Dirty all the time. And how much money could he possibly make?
Mechanic: (smiling and lip syncing while working on her car)
Yep. Must suck to do something you enjoy. That lady is going to go to work and count down the hours until Friday so she can enjoy her fancy car that gets her to her miserable job.
I know what you’re thinking. “Alice (or whatever your real name is), it’s easier said than done. I’m stuck in my job. I can’t do what I want. I’m too old. I’m not smart enough.”
Did you sign a paper saying you can’t leave? No? Then shush. (If you did sign a paper like that, find a lawyer.) Unless you’re wanting to become a doctor at 96, you’re not too old. Don’t have the skills? Pick up a book. People write about everything, and you can learn anything from a book and some YouTube.
And if you can’t get paid for doing what ya love, volunteer. Do it for free. Make it a hobby. You think I make a damn dime off of putting my brain stew into words for some people to enjoy? Nope. But there’s nothing better than getting a text from someone you haven’t spoken to in months:
When are you going to write some more stuff?
Ahhh. Worth it.
And if you must have that job you hate so you can afford your car, so be it. But you have to add something else in there. Something that makes you want to get up every morning without feeling the need to tell Facebook it’s Monday. Again.