27. “Welcome to the real world,” she said to me condescendingly.

27. “Welcome to the real world,” she said to me condescendingly.

I was always under the impression that once I graduated from college I would have a firm grasp on my future. You’ll figure it out they said. Nine years later and I’m still as lost as when I started Stonehill in 2001. While I’ve grown immensely in that time span, my life plan is still branded with an exquisitely large question mark.

Truth? I work to live. I don’t live to work. My job provides the means necessary to survive, to run, to travel, to do all the things I enjoy. But I have yet to encounter the single spark that ignites my flame for a career. All I can hope for is a job I feel indifferent towards. One that, when I wake up in the morning, I don’t mind going to.

I felt that before when I worked in product development for stationary and technology items. The position dealt with creativity as I watched merchandise blossom from the concept stage to completion. More importantly though, I credit my success and happiness largely to my boss at the time. I worked part time in that position for two years before earning a full time slot. Though the additional hours meant health benefits and greater pay, it also meant leaving my favorable work environment.

Now, as I sit in limbo, I wonder about my next step. What will make me happy? Will something just click? I identify more with mom and pop than corporate America, but can I escape the suit and tie life or is it inevitable? I’m slightly rebellious and refuse to follow idiotic rules. I’ll keep wearing earrings in my three holes, thank you. White socks, you say? Nah. Mine will be festively decorated and still hidden under my pants (preferably jeans). My nails may lack navy lacquer at the moment but once you tell me I can’t wear it, I’ll be itching to defy you.

I’ve wanted to be it all- interior designer, wedding planner, HGTV decorator, graphic designer, writer, photographer, business owner, nutritionist, fitness coach… Yes, my interests vary and that’s a large part of my inability to choose the perfect career.

Here’s what I do know. I’m creative. I can spend countless hours staring at photographs, making digital scrapbooks, writing, and working out. I envy people who get paid to travel or promote sports. Making a difference adds validity to my existence.

I want a life that offers freedom yet stability. Am I a tad too picky? Probably. Will I end up settling for a lackluster job wishing I could turn my hobbies into money makers? Most likely. Will I give up hoping? Never.

I am confident my life will fall into place in Boston. I hope to work for a running store where I can combine my knowledge of retail with my current athletic obsession- at least until I find my “big girl” job. Maybe an opportunity will arise from working at the store whether through my experience or connections. Maybe not.

In a perfect world, I would be a country singer/songwriter. In a more realistic perfect world given my lack of musical talent, I would spend my days writing and taking photographs. But mostly writing. This blog has reignited the desire to pen my stories.

In a perfect world I wouldn’t have to settle for anything less than extraordinary.

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