Every once in a while I like to stop whatever I am doing and take a quick look around. Not really to smell the roses but to look at them. See how much they have grown. So what do my roses look like? What kind of roses are they? Are they even roses? Well let’s take a gander shall we?
It’s Friday night. I am sitting on a couch at my place of work and that’s not a typo. I got stuck working the Friday night shift in the summer when I started my employment here, hoping that it would change after a few weeks. A few months later and here I am. I don’t really mind working on Friday nights. From an economic standpoint, it couldn’t be better. Instead of spending money on dates and other festivities, I make money and do my homework at the same time. Am I very responsible, or did responsibility hunt me down and force itself down my esophagus? I’ll take the latter.
It’s January 16. That means that I am two weeks into another rank-n-file semester of college education. After an inspiring conversation with my friend Jeff, I am deciding to be motivated and put in at least 74% effort this time around. This date also means than earlier today I put a few pieces of paper into an envelope that some might say will determine my future. I’m not all about that though. Whoever says that other people will dictate what my life will be is full of hooey. Sure, people might reject my applications, resumes, forward advances, ext., but that just means that there is some other bold adventure waiting for me. As one door shuts, thirty seven more open.
It’s 2009. I am twenty two years old. When did that happen? If you happen to find the fifteen year old that is my existence, tell him that he has some catching up to do.
It’s now 3:23 a.m. and it’s time to hit the time clock. Good night kids.
