A deep sense of responsibility and drive to assist others had always made most of my decisions for me. I took any AP class I could in high school so I could enter PSU as a sophomore. I took overtime classes and worked two jobs to finish my undergraduate courses without any debt. My social life suffered but I assumed I could make up for lost time in the future. I worked & volunteered at non-profits, then spent years as a teacher (first in England and then in Beaverton), edited grants, and then performed data collection for educational projects. I always wanted to make sure that what I was doing made a difference in someone's life. The sad part of this is that somewhere along the way I stopped enjoying it. As much as I could do, as hard as I tried, it just was never enough. There was always someone to complain, someone to demand more, someone to comment on how different I was at how I did things, no matter how well I did. I struggled with remaining altruistic.
My last place of employment started to decrease its number of hours available and yet involved a great many hours of driving to far away schools. I enjoyed it but I was spending a significant amount of time in the car and too much money on gasoline. I found a job ad for something entirely different, where I was certain I could do a great job, and applied. It was near mass transit yet only 15 minutes from my home by car if I chose to drive. It involved working closely and forming relationships with all sorts of different people but yet would allow me to take full benefit of my extreme need for organization and attention to detail. I was truly excited to apply and further delighted to have two interviews and my references were called. The future looked fabulous as I could earn a great living working at *gasp* one place not far from where I lived. I sent an interview thank-you letter and waited. And waited. Annnnnnnd waited. To this day I've heard not a word.
As the weeks went by, I was more and more reminded of all the hundreds of job applications I submitted for teaching jobs, all the interviews I attended, all of the "we've decided to go in another direction" letters I've read over the years. I also remembered all the parts of myself I've ignored and let die while being concerned about the world and everyone in it. A couple weeks ago, I awoke from my fitful slumber with a splitting headache and a terminal case of the "fuck-its". A few days later, my mother fell unexpectedly ill and I needed to take her to the emergency room. After she was admitted to the hospital, I spent the next few days ruminating on how fortunate it was that I didn't get that other job, because I wouldn't have been able to handle everything. I took it as a sign from the universe that it was okay to take a break and I tried to get my brain to understand the concept of a course diversion into funtown. A couple of panic attacks later, I think I've just about accepted my destiny:
I've decided to become the most famous person ever for doing absolutely nothing. In a time where anyone can become a celebrity for absolutely no good reason at all, I will be the champion of doing the least. I'm going to perform exercises in pure indulgence and revel in every moment of my newly useless existence, all while sharing every moment of my non-inspirational journey with you.
I have deleted my fictional compositions on this blog and have left the first post only as a reminder to myself how it could have been, how it should have been, and how it's going to be. Get ready world, this is going to be TERRIBLE.