. . . since I didn't post Saturday.
Less angst, more reflectiveness.
If the only thing that matters is what I do (and nothing I do matters), then what do I do?
Try to get into advertising, so at least my degree doesn't go to waste? Meh. I'm a good writer--damn good--but I dunno that I still wanna be a copywriter. And writing short stories about vampires fucking in space keeps my Writing Muse purring like a Jaguar.
Also could do. I have the memory and the obsessive, detail-oriented anal retentiveness that'd stand me in good stead, either way. Though English/ Language arts is something I can do in my sleep. Hell, I'd probably have more patience teaching kids to read--or to appreciate reading because once upon a time, I had such a fucking hard time learning, myself.
When I was in Americorps, my day was spent doing exactly that, working as a teacher's assistant. So I know I can do it. Some of it, anyway.
Reading Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything". I wish I could teach Physics, but I've never had an aptitude for it, despite a continuing interest. Just finished Christopher Hitchens's "History of Thomas Paine's The Rights of Man". Really good--and the history behind that most important document (literally? The soul of our great nation) is fascinating.
Also taking my time with Steven Pinker's "The Stuff of Thought", and though I like learning about the connections between how we speak influences the way we think, and vice versa, I'm champing at the bit to put it down, and pick up Kevin Phillips's "American Theocracy".
Too many books, not enough mind.
What am I gonna do with my life? Should I even bother doing anything?
Genghis Khan, Florence Nightingale, Adolf Hitler, Martin Luther King, Jr--all dead.
Edit: Dick Cheney, Hootie and the Blowfish, Ann Coulter, Rachael Ray . . . all still alive. I don't know what the point of this edit is, only that I'm going to open a vein, now. Ta-ta.
"The Seether is neither big nor small. The Seether is the center of it all."--Veruca Salt