For the first time in my life, I lack a plan. I just don’t have one. I feel a bit like Chris Messina and Jenna Fischer’s characters in The Giant Mechanical Man.
I’m taking my GRE’s this coming Saturday, without having selected or even researched a school or program to take it for, without even knowing what major to study a masters in, and currently just hoping I can end this sentence on something other than a preposition, (major pet peeve), without knowing whether it’s necessary (nailed it)!
I don’t have a goal. Not a carefully sought out one at least. Not one that I can begin to even pan out without getting sweats.
That’s new for me. My problem is usually making a decision from too many options, but this time the options are not so clear. If you know me even remotely, you know that I do things by the book. Academically and professionally speaking, of course (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas in other words). I tend to do things conventionally and early—applying for college, finishing college, applying for the best internships and jobs. I do what I want and I make what I want happen for the most part. But what if I don’t know what it is I want? This time I don’t. Not even sure what my options are. And afraid there are few.
I really just don’t know. I don’t know what I want. It feels both exhilarating and terrible at once saying that out loud. But is it true? O wise Swedish House Mafia? Does heaven really have a plan for me?Religiously, yeah I believe it does. Logically, I dare hope so.
I started singing the chorus without realizing it while studying some geometry and thought, hmph, maybe there’s some wrinkle of truth to that. Sure, it’s just a good song, but I’m a bit like Kate Beckinsale in Serendipity. Ergo, I believe in signs. And this one says I’ll figure it out. Or rather, it’ll work out. Perhaps perhaps perhaps Geri Halliwell. I don’t yet have to make my mind up.