Diary of an Freak
Well, long about this time my mind turned to such wonders as the occupational arts. What would I do with my life? What were my goals? Did I have some sort of plan in place? Let's watch...
April 1, 1990 (age: exactly 20, plus a day)
[my sister's boyfriend at the time] is never going to be happy doing the job he's doing because there's too much stress but he wants money so he's willing to put up w/ it. I don't know if I'll be able to do that. I think I'll be able to work, but I don't want to, I don't know, be upwardly mobile. I want to be able to live comfortably. That's all. I don't like stress and I don't think I'm willing to put up w/ it for money.
Oh, isn't that adorable? As though job-related stress is an option you check off on the application form. Heheh. Younguns. Also, good to know that I was pretty sure I'd be "able to work". Coulda gone either way, I'm glad it worked out for me.
Anyway, at that time I started university and hadn't really thought too clearly about what I was supposed to do once I finished. I declared a major based solely on my affinity for the subject matter and the fact that all the professors had Far Side cartoons up on their walls. (Good thing I wasn't interested in making money.) Did I have doubts? You bet!
March 15, 1992 (age: 22 - mood: write-y)
I know I should finish school because I won't be able to get a good job without a B.A. but in Anth? How many jobs are out there? I'm such a dweeb. Why would I pick that?
Excellent question. Two years into the program. Okay, so maybe I didn't have the best game plan. But at least I had hard work and dedication on my side. Right?
Same entry, only pages of angst-filled ranting later
The one thing I have learned, tho, is that it takes all kinds in this world. And whats so bad about being moderately lazy? Will I be killing someone by not doing my homework, or not making my bed? The western work ethic sucks anyway, if you ask me, which you didn't. What has it gotten us? Fabric softner, clock radios and a hole in the ozone layer the size of Brian Mulroony's ego.
Oy. I don't envy this crazy bitch when she has to go looking for a real job, I tell you what. She can't even spell the PM's name right. And what does she have against fabric softener and clock radios? Is she some kind of Mennonite?
Geez, well I certainly hope all of this worry, rationalization and speculation actually gets her somewhere, and years later we find her happy and stress-free in a job she doesn't hate.
You have no idea how much I hope that.
Up Tomorrow: The very latest entry in my diary ever! Thrills!
April 1, 1990 (age: exactly 20, plus a day)
[my sister's boyfriend at the time] is never going to be happy doing the job he's doing because there's too much stress but he wants money so he's willing to put up w/ it. I don't know if I'll be able to do that. I think I'll be able to work, but I don't want to, I don't know, be upwardly mobile. I want to be able to live comfortably. That's all. I don't like stress and I don't think I'm willing to put up w/ it for money.
Oh, isn't that adorable? As though job-related stress is an option you check off on the application form. Heheh. Younguns. Also, good to know that I was pretty sure I'd be "able to work". Coulda gone either way, I'm glad it worked out for me.
Anyway, at that time I started university and hadn't really thought too clearly about what I was supposed to do once I finished. I declared a major based solely on my affinity for the subject matter and the fact that all the professors had Far Side cartoons up on their walls. (Good thing I wasn't interested in making money.) Did I have doubts? You bet!
March 15, 1992 (age: 22 - mood: write-y)
I know I should finish school because I won't be able to get a good job without a B.A. but in Anth? How many jobs are out there? I'm such a dweeb. Why would I pick that?
Excellent question. Two years into the program. Okay, so maybe I didn't have the best game plan. But at least I had hard work and dedication on my side. Right?
Same entry, only pages of angst-filled ranting later
The one thing I have learned, tho, is that it takes all kinds in this world. And whats so bad about being moderately lazy? Will I be killing someone by not doing my homework, or not making my bed? The western work ethic sucks anyway, if you ask me, which you didn't. What has it gotten us? Fabric softner, clock radios and a hole in the ozone layer the size of Brian Mulroony's ego.
Oy. I don't envy this crazy bitch when she has to go looking for a real job, I tell you what. She can't even spell the PM's name right. And what does she have against fabric softener and clock radios? Is she some kind of Mennonite?
Geez, well I certainly hope all of this worry, rationalization and speculation actually gets her somewhere, and years later we find her happy and stress-free in a job she doesn't hate.
You have no idea how much I hope that.
Up Tomorrow: The very latest entry in my diary ever! Thrills!
posted by Alanis at
7:50 AM
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