Self-ramblings.

It’s 4pm on my day off and all I’ve done was jog on the treadmill for 40 minutes and fail at trying to set up an extension for my wireless network so I can sit outside on my computer. I’ve been sitting on a hard-backed chair and become congested from the chilling AC.

I’ve also spent hours staring at my MacBook screen, yet haven’t finished reading or writing one thing. It’s more than writers block. I paid for an online travel-writing course that I felt fell onto my lap at the perfect time. It has to be for me, right? It was between that and an article-writing course and I thought that the niche of travel writing was more appealing and specific than the other. I’m struggling with the first assignment and of course, since my mind likes to go off on more tangents than a boring schoolteacher, I immediately compare this assignment with my future. I can’t figure it out and I feel utterly stuck!

Besides traveling one day, I honestly don’t have any passion other than being a writer of sorts and I’m not even a good one. I’m 25-year-old BA degree-holder with no real writing experience, a short-lived magazine internship on my resume and a dedicated four and a half years at my current place of work.

At age five I started writing, always kept journals and loved English class. So why was I clueless when choosing a major for college? I started my college career taking music business classes (???). Five years later ended with an English degree (of which I tried all three concentrations- publishing, creative writing and literature).

I learned a lot about myself over the years. Lessons I am proud to say I’ve learned and experiences that have shaped me and made me realize a lot about people and life. Unfortunately, however, I’ve always been two things: boy crazy and confused. Safe to say I’ve got the boy situation under control, though growing up a hormonal little girl no doubt halted much progression with learning. I was an average student, but never pushed myself to accomplish more. The biggest risk I took was probably following through with the internship… crrraaazzyyy, right? You need to keep me on a leash!

Needless to say, upon graduation, I did not pursue a career in English or writing or anything of the sort, but instead took a fulltime position in the retail store I was employed at and currently still working. It’s been Four and a half years.

So, what now? I stare at my inbox and wait for the little red “1” to pop up telling me I have an email…from whom? My favorite magazine asking me to travel with them and help write articles on…what exactly? Not only will I not be receiving miraculous emails from companies asking to have me, I also have no idea what my dream writing material is. So here I am sifting through countless coupons and travel deals that clog my email, with little to no hope left. No dream job, no goals, no talents or hobbies (that I’m good at), and credit debt that disrupts my sleeping patterns.

Oh look, an email from MySpace. Fabulous.

I had great talks about setting goals, etc. with old friends last week and if they’re reading this, I hope they don’t think I haven’t listened to them or didn’t taken anything away from what they said. Every piece of advice I’ve ever been given floats around in my brain- where my college education should be- ultimately weighing my thoughts down and draining my body more than when I’m unable to get my daily protein consumption.

But, my problem still lies with this: I don’t know what I want to do, so how do I set my goals? Start small? I’ve started being thrifty and using my money more wisely, great. (I’m still going to be in debt with credit cards for a long time, which prevents any travel or internships or working for little-to-nothing to get ‘my foot in the door’ i.e. abroad or NYC- unless I want to work 80 hours/week). I also started that writing course (which is currently not going to work in my favor if I can’t even write).

My goal is to have a goal. One that involves moving in some fashion away from home. I’m too comfortable. And there’s not much for me here, on Long Island. As I’ve said, I have job, although not one that makes my heart go pit-a-pat, but one that enables me to pay for everything I need (which can work in my favor if I can only figure out my goals and passions). It’s my comfort level at home and work mixed with my nerves and inability to take risks that has kept me in one place my whole life. Some people are OK with that, but I know there is more out there for me.

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