Take a Deep Breath, Child

For the first time in my life, I don't have school to return to in the Fall. I am free from the silly demands on my time that professors deemed worthwhile. I am free from papers and tests, projects and studying. I escaped that agony a full two years ahead of schedule. I should be joyful. Why do I feel like running away? It is difficult to put into words how much I feel that I have lost my childhood. That it has fallen down that slippery slope of memory lane while I have tripped my way into adulthood where everything is a stranger and I am the outcast in my own life. The endless possibilities that seemed to exist just a few months ago are now anchored by the heavy weight of an impending endless servitude yet to be determined. And that is really the crux of the problem.
For the first time in my life, I have no direction. I do not know what I am working toward or what I want to do. I need to work, but there is little I've found in countless job descriptions to inspire passion and excitement. If I  have to be indebted to schools where I've earned degrees, I would prefer paying it back while doing something I can get excited about. This seemingly simple goal eludes me. Who would have known that it would be so difficult to obtain a job that fulfills and sustains the soul instead of sucking it dry? Had I known that this was the reality awaiting me, perhaps I would have slowed down to appreciate those extra two years I sacrificed.
I see no reason why I should accept payment for something that makes me miserable. That is like staying in a relationship that you are not invested in to spare the other person's feelings. In both scenarios, all parties lose. I am too much the proponent of happy endings not to believe that all parties can and should win. And so the search continues, while I battle with the patience that I do not have, for a job that I want that also wants me as I struggle to regain my perspective of this being the exciting part of my adventure where I can still become anything I want to  be. Wish me luck.

In dire times, I seek inspiration from Shel Silverstein:
“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”

Yes, anything can be. Let's see where that takes me.