Spinning my wheels, treading water… We have a lot of ways to say we’re doing shit but not going anywhere. Metaphors, yeah. That’s what they’re called.
So I’m doing that. I’m in some sort of psychological rut that’s keeping me from moving forward and doing what I want, or should, be doing. I’m a smart guy, I’ve got the knowledge and the skills to do great things with words. Do I lack the drive? No, I love writing. I love for people to see what’s going through my head, to argue and hone those thoughts into something more complete and “valid.” What I hate is the thought that I’ll do all of this work, put all of that effort into something and… Well… That no one will see it.
Or no one will care.
Or the ideas won’t be as good as I thought they were, as intelligent or articulate as they need to be to actually reach past that initial examination, the cursory glance that makes or breaks one’s interest.
Or I’ll be irrelevant before I even gain relevance.
There are so many things that could go wrong before anything ever goes right. Not everyone becomes what they want to be, not everyone ever even strives for it because, much of the time, more achievable means to financially superior ends present themselves. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to be working at Gamestop when I’m thirty, forty, fifty… Hell, I don’t even want to be there when I’m twenty-four.
I’ll be twenty-four in two days. Let’s go with twenty-five. If I come up on year two at Gamestop… I’ll probably stick with it. I mean, it’s income, and that’s the trap into which I’ve fallen. I can continue to put in some measure of effort at a job I do surprisingly well (okay, maybe having an affinity for selling video games is only surprising to me), or I can be broke and destitute.
… That choice shouldn’t be so fucking hard. Something in me, though, detects change coming a mile away. I felt something shifting by my third term as a computer science major. I was already looking at humanities based programs. I just didn’t make the switch until I’d been at Unisys for five months. I tell people who ask about that job that it’s the reason I became an English major. That’s inaccurate. It was the final push, maybe, or at least the time frame during which I made the switch, but it was not the primary or even a particularly influential factor.
I have a history of this kind of sense. It usually comes on before a major change. Probably in response to an impending change I actually know about, but let’s humor me for a second and assume that it’s some kind of psychic sense, or an ability to read the gestalt of my current situation with an eye toward details I can’t consciously pickup or, more likely, filtered through thoughts I have that are, contrary to the front I present, desirous of change.
That’s right. Shelby who “hasn’t changed” since he was a child (this according to my dad’s friend who, y’know, actually knew me when I was in my preteen years) actually likes change. I love it, in fact… Sometimes. Humans as a whole hate change, but I like progress, and I like to see things shaken up every so often. I got the feeling before my family moved to Nashville, before my karate instructor switched schools, before I took that job with Unisys… And I have that feeling, now. I don’t know where it’ll take me, but maybe I can actually influence that. Maybe I can make it take me somewhere I want to go.