Surely, you must have experienced the feeling of being so bored of the everyday monotonous routine that you start procrastinating. You fiddle around with your hair, doodle in your note pad, try to balance your pen on the bridge of your nose -- anything to spice things up. While most people are satisfied with looking for split ends for a few minutes, I crave a much deeper disconnection from the world. Well, the world in the time I'm living in, at least. I long for the future and what awaits me in it. This is why when I procrastinate, I daydream about what I'll do in the future. You see, I'm a very ambitious person and, while I am a 4.0 student who is hard-working, disciplined, and responsible, I tend to be attracted to some rather impractical things. I could study medicine, law, and all that jazz. Take courses in college that can almost guarantee a bright future for myself if I work hard enough for it. Practical careers. But I don't want to. Ever since I could talk, I've been going on and on and on and on about how I was simply destined to be a world-class chef. My family said I could never be one for I am a persnickety little poppet. Very picky and easily disgusted by the idea of eating raw foods and things I've never eaten before. That I can't be a chef, because I'd choose home-cooked meals over a three-course gourmet dining experience any day. Up until a few months ago, I never gave these comments much thought. I simply brushed them off my shoulder and reminded myself that I have a lifetime left to get to try new foods and expand my palate. But then, a comment was made that could change all plans I ever had for the future; my plans career-wise and my lifestyle overall.
I was in English class sitting at the back of the classroom (as always), restlessly swinging my legs back and forth as I waited for the teacher to call my name and hand me my test. She called me over and I walked towards her, like anyone normally would. I reached my hand out to my test only to find that the teacher was still clinging to it, staring at me intensely as if to tell me something I didn't want to hear. I simply leaned over and she whispered to me, "You should be a writer. A journalist, maybe." Harmless as they may seem, her words were replaying over and over again in my head as I took this suggestion under consideration (which scared me A LOT, because I'd never thought of becoming a writer. It'd mean changing my future. The imaginary world I had created all those times I'd procrastinated slowly crumbled down). She kept talking about how I'm a good writer and how she thinks I'd do well in that field. I've got to say that...I can't really disagree. Not to sound arrogant, but I know my writing is...well, not bad, if I do say so myself. But I just couldn't see myself as a journalist. I always found that career to be so boring and depressing. However, about a month later, those words popped into my head yet again and I decided to do some research. After a few minutes of looking around, I discovered TRAVEL JOURNALISM.
The change of heart was almost instantaneous. I found out that journalism really can be cool. I really do love to write and one of my many ambitions is to see as much of the world as I possibly can; to get out of this little island and be entertained and fascinated by things outside of the realm of tourist traps (take my home, for example: Puerto Rico. Half the time, I forget that people other than me and the people who go to my school live on this island due to the fact that I see so many tourists wandering about in their caps, sun block'd noses, Hawaiian shirts, and khaki shorts). I want to see nature at its greatest; the big cities at their busiest. I want to be blinded by the burning lights in Time Square. I want to lay in a meadow by a stream in the countryside of New Zealand. There so many places I want to see and so many things I want to do. As a chef, these things would be rather hard to accomplish. But with travel journalism, ...well, I think the name says it all. A risky career, yes. But I don't want to go through life wondering what would've happened if I did manage to save up money for trips, and I did manage to write for many papers, magazines, and blogs at a time, and I did manage to handle being my own boss and live a good life with all of the necessities, and I did manage to fulfill one of my most impractical, crazy dreams? What do I have to lose? I'm still young. I'm not supposed to know exactly what I want to do with my life. I can allow myself a bit of confusion and stress. If that career doesn't work out, I'll move back in with my parents, get a job or two (one to pay rent and one to have money for myself and everything), and wait until I have enough money to go to culinary school. I realise I'm not going to hit everything right off the bat in life. I'm just going to have to live with it. My future is in God's hands, and if that means that I have to sit back and watch my fantasy life dwindle and crumble until there's nothing left of it, then so shall it be. At least I've got a ton of people who love me and who I love very much in return. I've got many things worth living for. :)
