I’ve felt so unlike a writer recently. Wondering if it’s the
right life choice for me and everything. I’ve wanted to be an author since I
was in elementary school, but then I decided it was more practical to aspire to
become an editor or a publisher. Apparently that’s still not very logical, but
it’s just that I’m not good at anything else. I really like proofreading and
giving people feedback and if that’s not what earns me money, then… I guess I
just won’t be rich and that’s all there is to it. I have no regrets so far
about being an English major; I just want to be the best at it that I can be.
And not slack off or anything like that. If I can accomplish that then I think
I’ll be happy with myself. Even though I’ll be paying off college loans for the
rest of my life. But isn’t that what so many other people do? I won’t be put
off from education because of a ~dark looming future~.
I’m realizing that this reflects my philosophy on pretty
much everything. “That’s just the way it is.” I’m very simple in that way. I
didn’t really enjoy my sociology classes for that reason – I like learning
about current events and issues, but I don’t like thinking about them too much
or asking why. It’s just that things will be the way things will be and we have
to accept them as they are. I don’t know if that’s a particularly positive way
of thinking and I’m sure I’m not making any sense, but… YOLO.
Yep. I just went there.
I’m going to be starting my sophomore year of college in a
couple days and I can’t believe I just typed that. I’ve written so many online
blog posts about starting the first day of a school year in a couple days and
it’s just mind blowing that time goes by so quickly like that. I feel like I
really haven’t even accomplished very much.
