Quite honestly, not everything goes according to plan. But I’m fine with that. Learning to roll with the punches or in my case, a fucking concussion, is all a part of life. My once golden vantage career path has suddenly turned dark and uncertain. Call it bad luck or the sad state of foreign affairs the economy has been enthralled in. Either way, I need plan B.
If you were to ask me what the hell I would be doing for work right out of college, I’d honestly say some dead ass job that barely paid the bills. That wasn’t me being unoptimistic — more so realistic considering I was up to my neck in debt and hopelessly inebriated 24/7. Now that I’m passed that mindset, having other options available when work goes south seems like a constant battle.
In the time I’ve been trying to improve, I’ve come to realize just how swift and sudden you can end up hating the usual 9-5. Some employers use that to their advantage, actually. How fucked up. Hasn’t everyone woke up not wanting to enter the office and dreading the day’s events? Mondays no less. You don’t want to be there and yet you have no choice because of bills and whatever debt life has it’s grasp on your throat.
This entire fucking week, I felt like I was suffocating. How tragic and unsettling. Thankfully, I’m feeling much better now. Sometimes, or a lot of the times, the door isn’t open for you. You have to kick it down and walk right in like you’re wanted and expected. So what if this feels like a set back. I’m just taking it all in and hopefully able to self-reflect in the not so distant future.
This week ended on a high note. A welcomed one at that. Later world. Daniel, out.