I have not fallen into a margarita stupor. I’ve been off doing adult things – jobs applications, resume tweaking, mindless worrying about the future.
I realized something important while brushing my teeth and talking to myself about a week ago. I’m not sure how I got on this topic of conversation with myself. It’s quite like how I end up on weird tangents with external sources – sometimes, but not always, with humans. Nevertheless, somehow I hit an epiphany while water dripped off my elbow and onto my foot.
I was debating whether or not a job offer I have would be a good choice for me (more information at a later date) and if it would be something I would want as a career. I’m hedging a bit because I’ve finally realized that what I do irritates me so much because it doesn’t truly seem to have an impact on any sort of forward movement. Untangling that line, what I do doesn’t really deal with the future. Day in and out, I dredge up the past. I am, writing this with a flair of dramatic, responsible for the portions of a person’s soul left behind in written material.
*cough* Less dramatically put – I’m currently an archivist in training.
It wasn’t so much my flirting with morbidity which was the epiphany, but I realized that, hey, I have concrete wants and desires when looking at what I would like to do in fifteen years (…if I actually mobilized my butt for action). I no longer just have “I don’t want this” or “I would go crazy if faced with that”, but actual, honest-to-goodness attributes to look for in a job.
Hallelujah. (‘Tis the season after all.)
Posted by firewings 
