I spent the day trying to think of somewhere I’d like to work. By day, I mean about an hour this afternoon, since I slept until eleven, ate a hearty brunch of Easy Mac in my pajamas, watched an episode of House from Netflix, and finally got around to getting ready for the day around three. You know, before my mom got home.
I wasn’t always like this. It seems like I’ve been saying that a lot, and it makes me sad, but I don’t care enough to change, and that’s what really gets me.
My list of jobs I’d like is small. I don’t want to work in fast food. It’s not so much because of the food, but because I’ve heard horror stories of dealing with angry customers. I thought about journalism, but papers keep cutting jobs and the pay sucks from what I hear. I thought about tutoring; it’s an option. I guess retail’s okay, but I don’t know anything. Really, for getting an education from an outstanding high school, I know almost nothing about working. I mean, I can take a wicked derivative, but getting a 5 on the Calculus BC exam doesn’t really qualify me to be manager of Family Video. But if I had gone to college….
Maybe something creative will hit me. Right now I’m stuck with the sad fact that outside academics, my only real interest lies in entertainment — in movies, books, and music — which means I’m completely incompetent with anything dealing with real life. Give me imaginary worlds, I’m set. Give me the real world, and I sleep into eleven and spend the rest of the day in my pajamas.
I really need to man up and call Beth. She deserves an apology at least.