I'll Be The Tortoise, You Be The Hair

You ever get the feeling that life is passing you by? My sense of paranoia has given birth to the acute awareness concerning the plethora of advanced degrees and life maneuvers people in my age group are procuring. Its hard not to, when they so eloquently throw it in your face, via social networking sites. You all know who you are. Is there some race to the finish line in life that I wasn’t made aware of? We all face the same ominous fate. Many kids in my class are either done with a secondary degrees or are nearing the culmination of a doctorate, while each day I feel that my regression is nearly complete. Would college have been our first choice had it not been a social construction or some fucking pre-conceived axiom?

There’s an inkling I have that there are two distinct parties within this cadre of overachievers, one is the highly motivated sycophantic brown-noser that has always wanted to be _____ insert world-changing profession here, and the second group, people that took a shot in the dark because they were scared shitless of being shaken from the proverbial parental tit, ill prepared to face the daunting task of fitting into the hierarchy, and many hues of mediocrity. I don’t say this disparagingly. Ok, maybe I'm taking a little pot shot at these people. There are going to be some very discontented people who figure out that they just spent six figures for a career path they no longer desire and could have avoided this gaffe for $12 at the local Borders. What happens then? You become a slave to the system. I’d rather work a job that uses 10 percent of my brain, that leaves the rest of it for me, than work a job that uses all my brain and leaves nothing for my own salvation.

Don’t take my lack of direction as a reversion to apathy. I’m simply not satisfied with just being "ok." I will find what I’m looking for at the end of my personal odyssey. I once fell for the psycho-babble bullshit, deeming it noble to chase what you love. That’s not always feasible and not always the best advice. Look at Hitler, he was doing what he loved. Imagine if someone had advised him to be a doctor, World War II averted. Take these platitudes with a critical vantage point, most people don’t love what they do. Denizen’s lack of satisfaction with work, is the number one complaint in America. Does this really surprise anyone? Hasty school and job decisions are direct players in this heinous statistic. Feigning knowledge of the occupational sublime would be, at best, a theory based on nothing more than mere empirical evidence.

I, without fail, get to play 20 fucking questions nearly every week. Invariably, the conversation comes to the same conclusion in relation to my current life aspirations and goals and that would be-I don’t know. For many mothers and fathers that believe I'm courting their daughters, this is not a sufficient answer, their pupils dilate coupled with a look of totally bewilderment. They urn for more, an extrapolation on the “profane” statement I’ve just made, as if this answer isn’t lucid enough? No Apologies, I Don't Think Before I speak