Life of a confused girl

Have you ever wished for something and then when you finally have it in your possession, you no longer want it? Yeah, well I’ve wished to grow older and I did not think that one through.

Today was the first day of class for the 2018-2019 academic school year. My first thought this morning was to skip but instead I chose to grace the professor with my presence. First thing I learned: that was a mistake. Because for what seems to be the billionth time, I got the question about life. My plan. My future. In addition to that I had to introduce myself, which I feel is totally pointless because who’s going to remember me anyway?

But back to the life question. I swished it around my mouth a little bit, then with a straight face I lied. I don’t know what made this professor so special that I felt like I had to tweak my answer but that’s what I did. And I felt guilty. I’d cheated myself. I’d cheated on my pen and paper because I was not going to let anybody fake feed into my dream. It was a total “give the people what they want” moment.

Anyway, there was another girl in the class who had the same major as me and mentioned she would like to write screenplays and books. She did the bold thing, something I couldn’t and I applauded her.. (you go Glen Coco). But guess what? The teacher still asked if she wanted to teach. Yeah so I dodged the bullet and the rest is history.

Later in my night class, we talked about the same thing but not from a personal place. From the place of DuBois and Booker T and it got my brain working overtime. Washington believed practical skills were needed for survival. He believed that trades and things of that sort would bring in the money. Looking at society today he’s definitely not wrong. Girls braid hair for money, make little trinkets and sell them, design clothing. They hustle. But as I’m closing in on college, trading childhood for young adult life I’m scared. What if my one “practical skill” isn’t enough? I can’t afford to not have it together. There’s still so much that I don’t even know how to do.

Ughhhhhhhhh adult life sucks. Where is my time machine ?

 

 

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