What to do?

Kids,

Do you know what you want to do with your life?

I decidedly do not.

I mean, I really do not know what I want to do with my life. Or rather, what I should do with my life. There are a ton of things I want to do, actually. But which is right?

I'm a waffler.

This goes for small decisions as well as large ones. Ask anybody I know. Oftentimes, I know I want to go to dinner, but I don't know where. I rely on whomever I've roped into dining with me to make a decision. I think that the only reason I may actually have friendships is because I need people to make decisions for me.

But not the big ones, kids. The big ones I insist on making (or not making, as the case may be) for myself. And I do not take advice. Ask any of my oldest friends. I have a new life plan every week. And it's not because I'm flaky, it's because I am undecided and confused and mostly really scared.

I know a lot of people who seem to know what they want to do with their lives. I use the word "seem" here because I think they're full of donkey piss. Really? At the age of 21-28, you know what you want to do forever? Do you? Some of you I believe. Some of you have this outrageous talent and/or passion and/or drive.

I'm not an unintelligent person. But I think my waffling and inability to decide what I want to do with my life makes me out to be one. I know how it sounds when I have a new life plan every week for my friends. I'm at lunch with Krystina and I tell her my latest plans and she nods like a good friend and offers advice like a good friend, but I can also tell that she's taking that extra sip of wine to wash down the grain of salt with which she is listening to my rantings and ravings.

Rantings and ravings may be a bit of an understatement.

In fact, my plans are usually pretty well thought out. For the librarian gig that I decided most recently I wanted to accomplish, I made a five year plan. It included saving money, doing research, possibly moving, going back to school, and finally finding a job.

The very end of my plan, in five years, was "be happy" with a smiley face drawn next to it. I don't even like smiley faces. But lately I've found that the bit of optimism expressed by that tiny little creepy drawing eclipses the waning optimism I have in my own life.

And this is not to say that my life is bad or even that I dislike my current job. As a matter of fact, I really like my current job. I like the company I work for, the people I work with, and the things I get to do. I like that I get to spend some time running around the floor like a crazy person, some time doing paperwork (I LOVE working with money), some time updating facebook, some time buying things, some time working on events.

Mostly, what I love about my job is the fact that it doesn't tie me down to any one thing. I get to put on a lot of hats and do a lot of different things. I get to be a jack (jackie?) of all trades while learning to master them all. Plus, as I mentioned earlier, I really do love the company I work for and the people I work with. It's refreshing to work with professionals (yes, there is such thing as a professional in the restaurant industry, though it is frequently likened to a mermaid or other mythological creature).

But what will I do forever? Forever is such an extremely long time. I guess I should say, what will I do for a long, long time? What will be my "vocation"?

Okay. I am ranting now. I hate ranting.

Kids, there is a long list of career possibilities I'm considering right this moment. If you should meet me down the road and I've settled on one of these, give me a big hug and congratulations. It has come only through much weeping and gnashing of teeth, I'm sure. If I've settled on something else, I still want a frickin' cookie or a gold star or something. Because dammit, if at some point in my life I've made it past aging and into adulthood, I want you to know that it has been with a LOT of work. And if you should ever find yourself a confused 20-something not quite sure where to go from here... Know that I was there, too. And if future me acts like a smug asshole because I've figured my life out and you haven't, then feel free to remind me about my closet-sized apartment that I paid way too much for and that one time I fell and knocked my teeth out of my skull. It'll shut me up, I promise.

(For your convenience, photographic proof of "that one time I fell and knocked my teeth out of my skull". You're welcome, you spoiled brats.)

Look, I'm just gonna stream them all along in one paragraph so you can really get the sense of confusion and stream-of-consciousness that goes into my future planning at the moment.

Restaurant Manager. PR Person. Events Coordinator. HR/Payroll Person. Librarian. Lawyer. Wedding Planner. Florist. Bookstore Owner. Journalist. Children's Book Author. Adult Novel Author. Screenplay writer. Kindergarten Teacher. Special Education Teacher. Professor of Literature. Mormon Mommy Blogger (SERIOUSLY!). Food Writer. Baker. Crafter. Retail Buyer. Editor. Critic. Museum curator. Social worker. Person who works with children with disabilities/adults with disabilities/basically any sort of bleeding-heart-non-profit job that will make me cry every night but will leave me feeling really fulfilled. Assistant to some rich dude. Person who asks for money for museums or performing arts centers or galleries or the like. Gardener. Stationery maker. Really on-the-ball housewife. Stylist. Caregiver to my grandparents as they age.

There's more. There's always more. To my kids, we'll see where it ends up. To my peers in the here and now, am I the only one?

Also, special thanks to Cathy and my dad and my sisters and my friends. But mostly my dad and Cathy, because they do have their lives figured out (as far as I can tell) and instead of being smug assholes, they're being really supportive. Possibly very concerned, but still really supportive.