I've stopped. Stopped serving, stopped caring. For the last month or so, I was never happy with anything. Too stressed, too pissed, not ever pleased. That's when I knew it was time to leave. So I left. I'm not a waitress anymore. I'm still in the food industry, and I have fun at my low stress, boss people around, mostly old people clientele job, but I'm ready for a change.
So I'm going back to school. Fourth time's a charm, right? I'm certain it'll stick this time. I'm shooting for a degree in journalism, I'm just not sure what kind. I'm too much of a fatty to be ON TV, so maybe in the shadows writing the teleprompter script for all the pretty anorexics. I'm far too skinny and attractive to be working in newspaper (those people are UGGOS!) so perhaps I'll settle for magazines or the Interweb. Anyone can write on the Interweb.
The goal? To write travel books. But how many other people have that goal? I imagine it's pretty much the best job on Earth. Especially if you're forced to write about Ireland or the Bahamas.
Oy.
So here's to high hopes and even higher student loans.
Wish me luck!
No comments:
Post a Comment