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Help! I Need Some Guidance!

January 21, 2014

TiaraSo I was watching Seinfeld the other night, as I do every night right before I go to bed (it’s my little night-time ritual) and it was the episode where George loses his job and he’s trying to figure out what he’s going to do next.  It made me realize that, like George, I find myself in the 13th year of being 29 years old, and I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

When I started college, I was a chemical engineering major.  That ended after a couple of bad semesters with Dr. Venkatachar (AKA Dr. Satan, because he was mean and he had the little pointy mustache and beard that you often see in Satan depictions) and barely passing marks in Chem 151 and 152. Then I thought maybe I would try civil engineering, but that dream was dashed after one drafting class and my inability to transfer spatial crap to paper.  Following my advisor’s suggestion, I switched to Business Administration, and I found myself like that dog in the Tom and Jerry cartoons, propping up my eyelids with toothpicks to stay awake in class.  Then I got a student assistant job in the prison, and prison just fascinated the hell out of me, so I took up psychology.

Which is probably why I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  I ask too many damn questions. I overthink things. I analyze every single possibility to the extent of rendering myself to the point of inaction.  Freud would have a heyday with me. So tonight, without any analyzation (I just noticed the “anal” in that word, which made me think of Freud again, ha!), here are the things I want to be when I grow up, in no particular order.

Rock Star.  Yeah, I probably waited a little too long to realize this career choice.  I’m just now learning to play the guitar, which in my book is a must for any real rock star, and plus I’m writing this instead of actually practicing my guitar and my lesson is tomorrow, so I’m probably never going to be famous in this field.  Nevertheless, I shall continue on with my lessons and efforts to start Chillicothe’s first all chick rock band.  We’ll be headlining at The Thirsty Fox soon, so stay tuned.

Probation Officer. That stint I did in prison (working as a student aide for Ohio University) was the whole reason I went into psychology.   The human mind is fascinating.  The criminal human mind is infinitely more fascinating…and entertaining.  Then there’s the fact that I grew up on the fine line of becoming a criminal/being a productive citizen, so I might actually have some insight in helping people cross over into the light. That, and it’s the only job I’m academically qualified for that would allow me to carry a gun.

Bartender.  Anyone who knows me knows I love cocktails!  Matter of fact, the last time I was in Houch’s (our local liquor store, and yes I know they spell their name wrong), I ran into my neighbor and I found myself giving her drink recipes and then guiding her around the store to buy the ingredients. Most women can navigate Macy’s like it’s their backyard; I feel more at home at the liquor store.  Thing is, bartender hours are horrible and I’d much rather be on the other side of the bar.  Maybe I could be a state liquor agent instead. Or the liquor merchandiser.  I bet they even get a discount! On a related note, I need to either quit watching Cocktail on the weekends or learn to twirl a cocktail shaker and move to the Bahamas.

Queen.  It’s a damn shame I was born in the middle of Appalachia because I would make a damn good Queen.  I’m pretty good at telling other people what to do and not so good at doing those things myself.  Wait!  Epiphanous moment – that’s why I majored in psych. I think I just heard angels sing on high.  On the other hand, I may have a mental disorder. Regardless, the only thing better than carrying a gun every day to work would be wearing a fabulous diamond studded tiara and bossing people around.  If I’m going to pursue this career choice though, I’m probably going to have to relocate to a small foreign municipality that has such an opening.  Or win the lottery and buy my own island and declare myself Queen.  Then again, I may need to stop watching Island Hunters on the weekends, too.

Writer. Duh! I LOVE to write.  Sadly, I’ve yet to find someone to actually pay me cash money to do it.  I once entertained the thought of starting my own greeting card company because I have lots and lots of crap in my head that would make excellent greeting cards for those who might have been raised in dysfunctional families.  Just try finding a birthday card for your father that just says Happy Birthday…thanks for the 90 seconds you contributed to my life! I’ve scoured the Hallmarks, and they don’t exist.  But, then the Internets came along and now people just email their random birthday greetings/apologies/sympathies or worse yet, just make a Facebook post. I blame the post office and the ridiculous cost of sending a letter nowadays. Not really, I blame people for being lazy asses.

So, tell me what do you want to be when you grow up? Or better yet, tell me what I should be when I grow up!

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