From Mid-Life to Mid-Terms
I don't have too many regrets. Sometimes I regret having too much ice cream or not catching a movie in the theater, but for the most part I view my "mistakes" as growth and figure the past is the past.
Except for one. Going to college.
That one has been nagging me for a while. It's kind of like when Annie Potts in Pretty In Pink is describing how her friend feels about the not going to the prom in high school "I have this girlfriend who didn't go to hers, and every once in a while, she gets this really terrible feeling--you know, like something is missing. She checks her purse, and then she checks her keys. She counts her kids, she goes crazy, and then she realizes that nothing is missing. She decided it was side effects from skipping the prom."
That's how I feel about skipping college. Really terrible. Made even more terrible after a recent job search and finding job after job where I could have done the work with my eyes closed yet I was missing just one, little, important piece. That piece? A piece of paper that says "Bachelor's Degree" on it.
A terrible feeling doesn't begin to describe it.
Never mind the fact that I really want to grow as writer. I want to be critiqued, learn different methods, try different genres and network with other writers. Now before you get all crazy on me with "you don't have to go to college to do THAT!" Yes, I know. But I want to. And apparently I need to if I want to find a job that pays more than the average high schooler makes at Mickey D's.
So, two-hundred resumes, five very lousy interviews (one of which I was berated for not having a degree) and countless tears later my husband asks the million dollar question, "why don't you just go to school?".
Huh? Was that even an option? At the ripe old age of forty-something was that something I should even do? Yes, I know that people do this all the time but this is me we are talking about. I would be how old when I graduated? Pretty darn old. Would employers even hire someone that old? My recent graduate friend of my age assures me they will. Apparently I have "life experience" and boy do I. What would I even major in? Can I major in "life experience" and get BA with a focus on real world?
That's when my ENFP kicks in...I could be an art director, a firefighter, an astronaut, a painter, a sculptor, a film editor, a better writer, an author, a film critic, or I could even MAKE a film...
Of course reality eventually won the day and of course the English degree won the battle. Reading and writing is what I love and what I would do even if I didn't get paid. And wasn't that always how you were supposed to pick a career? The something you would do even if you didn't money for it?
So, I went school supply shopping, which I have to admit was always my favorite part of school, and picked out a blue and red daisy printed backpack. Here's a tip, don't ever go backpack shopping at the start of summer. It was either a daisy print backpack or a sherpa-type hiking-the-himalayans variety. Oh, and I got a new haircut. To the tune of about four inches lopped off.
As Coco Chanel said "A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life."
Stay tuned. It's going to get good.