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We grew up dreaming about becoming fireman, policeman, doctors, and princesses and when it was our time to graduate high school, start our first jobs, and pick a major for college we all derped and freaked out. When it came to our deepest and darkest desires we all knew what we wanted, but when the big bad world came swooping down dumping several doses of reality all over our Power Ranger lunchboxes we were forced to be practical… and eat our veggies.
From the time I was eight I knew that I was going to write a book one day. At the same time, however, I was also planning on being a princess-astronaut-actress who occasionally sold her art at fancy galleries. The fact that I also wanted to rule the world was totally doable for me at the time, but of course I grew older and someone told me that was called being a Fascist dictator.
The innocent dreams about writing never went away even though that, at times, my chances involving a life of writing seem impossible. The Universe can definitely be confusing at times with the hints and nudges it gives to me in order to follow certain paths. They often don’t make any sense, and I just feel lost.
In fact, I had a really odd dream that involved me actually working with the boss of my first internship (we were also at Chuck E Cheese’s but I ignore that part). I woke up the next day and watched one of his videos on YouTube and at the end of his talk he mentioned that he was looking for new interns. I probably looked around the room for about a minute wondering if I was being watched, but I ended up applying for the position and obviously getting the internship after an abnormal interview.
I spent several weeks at the internship grabbing lunch orders and coffee in a world that I thought I would never be a part of, but in the back of my mind I could never figure out why I was actually there. I was always (even though it never showed) incredibly grateful that I got to meet all of these amazing and talented people, but without editing, filming, or acting knowledge I couldn’t think of a reason why I would actually really be able to help.
After randomly being pulled to be in one of the many videos that I spent about four years diligently watching every week, I was actually asked to write. I was obviously excited, not only to write, but also because I thought I finally figured out why I was really there. I went in my next scheduled work day ready to write stories, but at the end of the day it kind of felt like I failed.
I had written a bunch of unnecessary posts on links they weren’t using, and when I finally figured it out, the posts I had written after that progressively started to sound terrible. My chance at whatever I thought was going to happen swiftly slipped away, and the only thing I know for sure will be posted online is this post that I’m writing about the entire ordeal right now that I’m about to schedule for the next day.
I honestly would like to know if the Universe is playing a really horrible trick on me or if I misinterpreted my very random Chuck E Cheese dream. I’ll always be passionate about writing, that’s without a doubt, but I’m just really starting to worry if I’m wasting my time chasing a dream that was never supposed to happen in the first place.
All of this Chuck E Cheese talk has made me hungry. Dammit. Now I want pizza.
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