Manic Monday

Sometimes I swear there are days we should never get out of bed.

I had a crappy interview.  One that made me debate the pros and cons of driving off a cliff or swerving to try to hit a deer.  I take that back, it wasn't crappy.  And it wasn't even a real interview.  It just...was.  It just...happened...  And now more than ever I'm frustrated with my lack of direction.  

What am I going to do with my life?  I have no idea.

My passion?  I don't have one.

whinewhinewhine.

How do you find your calling when you're interested in everything, good at a lot of things, fantastic at none, and crappy at only a few?  Let's make a list.

The Breakdown

1. Teaching.
I love the idea.  I like kids for the most part, and I loooooove learning.  I think I could be good at getting kids excited about science or history or a foreign language.  Plus, I'd constantly be learning as well, so I wouldn't get bored.  I don't know how well I'd handle high school kids since I can still blend in with them.  Let's face it, if a 6'1 jock decides to pull crap in my class, what would I really be able to do?  I'm just not threatening enough...or threatening at all.  Also, the idea of all the public school system's standards and tests and mandates are less than thrilling.  :/

2. Travel Writer.
Oh-em-gee, I could be such a badass travel writer.  I LIVE for traveling.  Seriously.  But what kind of living could I make writing articles and shopping them around to travel mags and newspapers?  Maybe a few hundred bucks here and there.  And I'd have to travel alot.  Which I'd love...for about the first year.  Maybe two.  And then I'd get tired.  I'd only want to go so often, and I'd want to go only the places I'm interested in going.  SO logically I'd need a back-up or part-time job to go with...which brings us back to square one, what job/career do I want?

3. Translator
Oh the places I could go.  There's the government translator route or a corporate route...there's options.  But I'd have to work so incredibly hard to become fluent.  Can I really learn an entire language other than my own??  Would it be easier to learn Italian or French or Spanish since I've had so much Spanish?  Or should I just continue to slug my way through German?  Because, let's face it, that's what I'm doing: bringing the slugging closer to you one day at a time.

4.  Airline stewardess.
Hear me out.  Travel.  Never too much time in one place.  New people.  Okay, okay, difficult, cranky, obnoxious people.  And quick turnarounds leaving no time to sightsee.  And lots of time on my feet in heels.  Yikes.

5. Singer/songwriter.
Haha.  If I was anywhere near good enough, sure.  And if I didn't hate attention.  Seriously.  People watching me makes me nervous.  But I love singing, even with my limited range.  I sing in the car, in the shower, when I'm alone and walking to class...as long as I'm alone.  :)

6. Cosmetologist/Hairdresser.
Crazy, right?  I'm so NOT the girly-girl, but playing dress-up has it's appeal.  Plus, it's not on ME, so I'm okay with that.  And you know, it's nice to feel pretty.  I think it'd be nice to make people feel pretty.  Buttttt then I think of that scene is Grease where it's revealed that Frenchie messed up her chemistry and dyed her hair pink by accident.  THAT would be me.

7. Crotchety, wrinkly, eccentric history professor.
Please!  Unfortunately, this would take a history degree (more school???!!!  Dear God, please no more!).  And lots of papers.  Probably a few arrests.  And years of unhealthy sun exposure.  Maybe not.  Maybe I could pull off the deathly-pale-never-stepped-out-of-the-library look...

So I'm lost.  Seriously.
I'm gonna start a club.  The Undecideds, complete with clubhouse.

Tab 4,372

Saying that I excel at procrastination is an understatement.  What people don't understand is that it is purely and phenomenally accidental.  No, really.
As the daughter of a cogeneration power plant engineer father and a medieval history encyclopedia mother, I am indeed nerdy enough to be interested in pretty much everything.  This leads to many things, namely my interest in a little bit of everything and deeply in nothing--and deep inner turmoil about what I'm going to do for the rest of my life!--but that's another rant for another time.
Procrastination.  I don't mean to put things off, honestly.  I go to look something up.  Something else catches my eye.  I have to Google that, I think, opening a new tab.  Repeat.  And repeat again.  And again.  And--oh look--it's 2 hours later and I have 14 tabs open in my Google Chrome window.  In the other window minimized and out of view are another 7 tabs.  (It's a sickness.)  And I'm not close to being done with any of them.  How did I get here?  Was I supposed to be doing something?  I'm hungry.  I'll grab a snack and will probably realize what I meant to be doing while I walk into the kitchen...
Nope.
And so it goes.
This is me.  I am a tab-er.  Or a tabber.  However you want to spell it.

Artsy Fartsy

School.
It never fails.  I go to class, I read my books, I take some notes that would awe you.......and then week 4 hits.  The alarm goes off at 6 am, and I think, "Why am I prying my comfy self out of my comfy bed?  This is comfy.  I like comfy.  I'll go tomorrow."  It's a slippery downhill slope from there.  Next I'm skipping the third class of the day for a jaunt to TJMaxx or Hobby Lobby.
God knows Hobby Lobby sucks me in and makes me think I could have an artsy side after all!, only to dash my dreams against the Cliffs of Reality after twenty-five minutes of browsing.  I am never going to paint a masterpiece.  It is absurd to pay $23 for a single (if lovely and incredulously soft) paintbrush.  And that little bottle of acrylic paint?  I'm only holding onto it because it's the prettiest shade I've ever seen in my entire life, and I'd really like to have it even if it's only to hold onto until I one day go to Lowe's and have them create a custom wall color from its contents.
I am no interior decorator, so posters are out.  Frames!  Have you seen how much frames cost these days??!  I'll have to sell a kidney for a decent frame.  Posters?  They're alright.  But I can't bear to put them up on the walls with just thumbtacks or similar means.  It's that one bit of "college decor" that just irks me beyond logical comprehension.
As for floral bouquets, I've still not the fancy to embrace fake flowers.  Yes, I'm aware they're the only ones I can manage to not kill, but they're still hideous.  And weird.  And pointless.  What about sewing?  I could sew.....and slowly bleed myself to death.
Right then.  I'm obviously not cut out for this.  I should probably continue this college gig and have some sort of career.
I'm going back to class.
Maybe she won't notice if I slip in the back door...