15 June 2006

Freak. Out.

Only I could have an asthma attack-inducing, mini-life crisis brought on by reading Diablo Cody's blog. If I'm not the only person who would do this, please find me, 'cause we're totally soulmates.

I can't even dig my nails into my palms or forearms to stop the tears because I cut my nails a couple of nights ago. I suck.

Why am I so unmotivated at work? I mean, obviously I'm not doing what I want to be doing. I really hope that doing what I want to do wouldn't feel like so much of a chore. Here's the rub, though: I have no idea what I want to do. I have a bachelor's degree and a master's degree in two different subject areas. To be fair, I didn't really give the first one a chance. Working as a newspaper reporter in college burned me out. I'm kind of in my master's field now, but ... I just don't know. Crunching numbers and writing about urban sprawl, racial segregation and economic disparity is interesting. In theory, anyway. But my concentration in nonprofit managment? What was I thinking there? Do I really want to manage people or an organization? Why didn't I just sell my soul and go to business school? At least I'd have money.

Oh my God. I wasted $50,000 and three years of my life.

I'm 32. Shouldn't I have an idea by now of what I want to do with my life? I feel like I'm behind schedule and completely immature. And I probably feel that way because it's true. I haven't done anything with my life but amass a huge amount of debt. I'm a failure ... but at what? I've not done anything. I should have an amazing career by now. Or God forbid, be a suburban soccer mom (I just threw up a little in my mouth). I should be something. But I'm not. I'm nothing.

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