I've spent the last several days on the computer. Looking for jobs, internships, filling out applications, and shipping off resumes. Should have thought twice before coming back to the US during a recession, Malia. I was so sure, confident I would have something by the time I settled into my old room. Well, I'm settled - so, uhm, where is the something? Ah yes... nowhere to be found.
You know those people who don't really have options? Life is shut off from them? They just can't seem to make things happen for themselves? That is not me. I am the opposite of that person. There are so many options in my life it makes me ill. I can literally do anything I put my mind to and it is nauseating. You know those people who have their whole life figured out by age 10? The whole 80 year plan or whatever? That is not me. I have no plan, I have never had a plan, I take "winging it" to a whole new frightening level. And you know those people who are really gifted at something? Who don't speak to crowds well but can create a lightning storm in a fishtank? Or who can't do multiplication for hard cash but can play their sport better than Hall of Famers? Who couldn't tell you who Monet was but can build you a computer out of scrap metal? That is definitely not me. I'm well rounded, a true daVinci girl. There is no one thing I excell at, but I'm pretty good at just about everything I touch.
In High School we took those aptitude tests, you know, the ones that tell you what field you would be best suited to go into? There were probably 8 different categories and the assignment was to take your top 3 and pick your ideal jobs from each or something... The assignment had to be rewritten for me. Because I was even across the board. As in, perfectly even. There was no category that stood out, nothing I excelled at, no extraordinary gifts - There weren't even 3 that tied or even 4 or 5. All 8, even across the board.
I like math, that there is a problem and an answer. I love science, the magic of how life works and operates. I have a knack for languages, there are rules but they can always be broken when you know them well enough. I obviously enjoy writing and I've been told I have "good voice." I'm street smart. I read people well and I respond to them accordingly, I've traveled the world alone as a female and never had problems with locals. I love art, making it and admiring it. I have good leadership skills, but I have no problem letting someone else take the spotlight. I'm loyal and devoted. I like to play and to work, each with its' own set of ethics. I'm culturally diverse, I'm open minded, I like both chocolate and vanilla. I've overcome adversity and am better for it.
Now, what is the problem with all this? What exactly is my issue? If you're looking at the grand scheme of things - nothing. I have no problems. I am a pretty butterfly with endless possibilities and flowers blooming in my midst! But endless possibilities lead to a spinning compass. I have no direction. And every time I give myself a direction I end up distracted by another. My compass is spinning and I have no direction. Which was alright, but I'm ready for direction. I don't want endless possibilities. I want God to say "Malia, go do this." And I want to say "But Goddd..." And Him to reply "Just do it! And I see that eyerolling!" I am tired of this spinning compass deal.
I would rather fast in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights being tempted by the Devil than decide what to do with my life. I want to be pushed kicking and screaming in one direction until I pause briefly to realize it's exactly what I always wanted. Or to have some ridiculous goal that I challenge authority over and fight with all I am to reach and then have some Sundance kid ask to make a film about my journey. To have to chose a door then have it shut in my face only to choose another door to have slammed on my fingers only to choose another door to have it shatter my little happygolucky heart - is not my idea of a life I want.
My father thinks that this is my equivalent of 40 days and nights, because it is more difficult for me to do than giving up everything would be. What I really want to do is to purchase a one way ticket to Morocco and lose myself in the Sahara- so much easier. Deep breath. This is me not running. This is me staying. This is me going 40 days and 40 nights being tempted by Satan in the closest thing to Hell I've ever known - Stagnant Suburbia.
I don't know what I'm doing, but I hope it's the right thing. And that my compass stops spinning. And that doors stop slamming on me because my whole body hurts from that nonsense. I want direction. I want my compass back. I want an open door that stays open. And I'm going to fight for it, even if I don't get an Oscar winning movie made. True. Story.