Tuesday, April 27, 2010

What are we?

The one thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to an end.

I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.

-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Here we are in 2010. With the sudden onslaught of the twenty-teens I feel as though the future has come too soon, and I am not terribly impressed by what lies ahead, both for myself and for the rest of humanity.

I find myself struggling with absurd and pointless questions. Did I really graduate from college two years ago? Where did all the money go, the little money that I worked so hard to earn? What the fuck am I doing with my life?

For years and years I called myself a "writer." Even now, in my current position, I am officially a "writer." And I have never felt less confident about my career/higher education choices than now. Why should I be confident? I don't want to be a journalist, I could never be a novelist, I am not a poet. I didn't set out to be a blogger. No one should.

I believe that what I am experiencing is entirely normal. I do not feel alone in my exaggerated nostalgia for the past and my absolute dread of the future (next exit: jobhunting. no more rest stops for 60 years or 1 million miles, whichever comes first).

Searching for a fulfilling work life is the final frontier. And like Esther Greenwood, I sometimes feel as though my glory days of achievement and accomplishment are behind me.

In this uncertain terrain, I know one thing for sure. Don't settle down until 2013, Kayleigh. Wait until the zombies destroy everything before you think about buying property and establishing roots anywhere.

Welcome to Zombie Picnic. Welcome to the present.

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