Life would be simpler if I could just figure out what in the hell I want.
I grow weary of looking at school after school, ridiculous policies, scrutinizing things I did twelve years ago, so I can get massively in debt for an education that may or may not be worth a damn.
Sometimes I think I should ditch the whole plan, Just find a job with the shit I'll know by the time we move.
Sometimes though, I am just so hungry to learn stuff, to play around with as much creativity as I could muster, and become the best damned artist that I can.
And I have to find a way to strike some sort of balance between the two. The most driving force is my feeling ready to explode by the utter lack of creativity in my daily existence, the constant gritting of my teeth as I do a job I find completely unfulfilling and try to make the best of it; the thought of another two to four years of this becomes incomprehensible at times.
Sometimes I'm at my job and I'm asked to perform some intricate calculation. Other times, I'm looking over screen after screen of jumbles of numbers and dates and abbreviations, attempting to come up with some coherent explanation of their account on the fly. My brain goes numb and I struggle through this but the only thought that runs through my head, and it runs through over and over again is what in the hell am I doing here.
It just seems so out of synch, someone who has been a creative, self expressive person their whole life and for whom math has usually been their sworn enemy would be doing something as rigid and dull and pedantic as working in a bank. It's around this time I want to simply run out of the building, screaming, away from that huge corporate complex in the middle of the sticks and forget that I ever set foot there. Get out, never look back.
Some days I go into work, feeling like something out of "Office Space" and wondering about all these people who seem to feel perfectly happy to be working there, for no other reason than they landed the job on the whim as same as I did, and because anything in this town that isn't waiting tables or manual labor is considered to be a major career opportunity by a lot of folks. I wondered how I wound up in the thick of all of this, it really is the last possible scenario I could have pictured myself doing.
Somedays I come home and between the annoyances of working for a mortgage company and the stress of people screaming at me all day, I don't feel inspired to do anything more than watching late night television.
And some days, I remember the end scene from Office Space, when Peter Gibbons finds something that is infinitely better than the job he had and hated. And I wonder if that will inevitably happen to me...