It's 9 o'clock on a Tuesday, and I don't know why I'm writing.
It's 9 o'clock on a Tuesday and tomorrow's 5 am wake up call already tastes bitter like coffee that's been sitting in the French press for a minute too long.
It's 9 o'clock on a Tuesday and I have no idea what I'm doing with my life. I'm going through the routine of school and work, and at the end of every day I think; am I doing this right? Is this where I'm supposed to be? Oftentimes, I don't even let my mind wander to the possibilities of what's out there because it terrifies me to think that I can change my entire career plan in a split second. But something about not opening up to those possibilities is an equally terrifying thought.
It's 9 o'clock on a Tuesday and the misty blue evening light is flowing through my window. The weather's been altering between sunshine and rainstorms all day today, and I've never resonated with it more.
I've found myself having to take lots of deep breaths lately. I never look forward to waking up, and I rarely get excited. I remember when emotions ran through me like a rapid river, and I hated it, but now, with every ounce of my being, I want that back. My light's burned out, I'm bitter and broken. I'm searching for happiness in every damn crevice and it's continuously winning this game of hide and seek.
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The little bit written above was written earlier this month, when I was knee dip in chemistry equations and coffee while studying for my final and desperately wishing for my first semester of college to be over. 7 week courses are not for the faint of heart, I've learned. Trying to cram 14 weeks of learning into a 7 week semester, while also trying to work enough to pay rent and buy groceries proved quite difficult, and I was left feeling drained and exhausted.
I didn't hate my class and what I was learning, but I hated being tied down by school. Wanderlust came creeping in and I really started to question if school was right for me. I wasn't excited about the schooling I needed in order to take me to the career I had chosen, and I told myself over and over again that I would just need to get through five years of hell before getting to a place where I'd be happy. I quieted any thoughts of doubt immediately, because I finally had a plan and everyone knew about it and I was so excited to be on the right path.
Then I read an old blog post of mine. It's called "i hope", and I wrote it the summer I went to Ireland, with hopes I had for myself and the people I loved. In it, I wrote, "But most of all, I hope that you're living the life you want to be, and that if you're not, that you can find the courage to change it into something closer resembling what it is that you'd like your life to look like." And it sorta just hit me. For so long I'd hushed those thoughts about changing my career plan, and I was miserable! Within minutes of deciding that I no longer wanted to be a nurse, I felt more calm and content than I had in a really long time.
Which brings us to now. I have some ideas of careers I'd like to research and I'm exploring my options. I'll still be going to school in the fall, since most of the classes I'm taking are prerequisites for pretty much all of the careers I'm considering, and I guess we'll see where it goes!
Life is too short to limit your options, and I'm so glad I'm exploring mine! It's kind of scary, and I have no idea where I'll end up, but all I can hope is that it'll be right in the end.
