It’s a weird thing to admit, I know. But it’s true. You know the expression, “Fake it ’til you make it?” That’s me. Oh sure, I’ve been good at previous jobs. But I’ve always faked the passion. Oh, I supposed I might have been a “true believer” for a time, but the more I learned about my chosen profession, the more cynical I become. That’s why when I was laid off last year I didn’t feel particularly bad about it. It was an opportunity to make a change! But to what?
And that’s always been my problem. I have no idea what I’m doing! Or more importantly, what I WANT to do. “What drives me?” is one of the hardest questions I’ve ever had to ask myself. It’s actually frustrating as hell, because you’re think that would be an easy one!
How do you even answer that question? I don’t think I’m particularly passionate about anything. I like to read (Sci-Fi and Fantasy, primarily), watch movies (the entertaining kind, not the educational kind), play with my dog, and surf the web. I LOVE receiving packages in the mail, and for a while I was reviewing products on Amazon but that recently came to an end.
I like writing and am passing-fair at it, as evidenced by the fact that you’re still reading this wall of text I’m laying down here. Thanks for that, btw. But what do I write? A book? Short stories? Random blogs about things and stuff? Emotionally, I don’t think I’m ready for random stream-of-consciousness writing in such a public forum. Frankly, I’m not sure the world is ready for me to just dump my brain out on the screen anyway. It’s a weird place in there!
Irregardlessly (BOOM! Adverbed an imaginary word. I like throwing that in there just to upset both the grammar AND spell-check systems. I think I may have also verbed a noun?), I suppose Forrest Gump had it half-right. Life IS like a box of chocolates, but you have to bite into a bunch of gross ones like coconut (sorry hon!), and other weird nonsense until you find those sweet sweet buttercream bites of deliciousness incarnate.
So the circle us back around, what am going to do with myself? I think I’d be awesome at retirement, but I lack both the funds and the funds to make that fantasy a reality right now. Something in the book industry would be nice. Would I be a good editor? Publisher? Writer? Some other “er”? Geez, I can’t even remember if the question mark goes inside or outside the quotation marks. That’s not a good sign. Then again, if I’m writing/publishing for Americans (which I would be, I suppose) most people wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. That’s kind of depressing, actually.
Anyway, I’ll keep looking. I suppose that’s all any of us can do. Except for those lucky few who already found their passion and are living their dream. And who knows? Maybe someone will read my blog, decide my writing is awesome, and offer me a grant of some kind to keep writing whatever madness pops into my head. Or someone may read my blog, decide it’s just awful, and pay me to stop? Ooh! Or pay me to keep writing this awful nonsense because they find it amusing. I’m strangely comfortable with that.
So in conclusion, that’s why the Marvel Universe movies are so much better than DC Universe movies. But it’s sad, really. How do you screw up Superman and Batman so badly?
edit: I also like craft beer and whiskey. And I find technology fascinating, although the completely voluntary loss of privacy concerns me.