Sunday, December 27, 2009

Musings of a wanna-be writer

It's rather ridiculous that watching Julie & Julia inspired me to begin blogging. I really identified with Julie. With that dissatisfying hole of a worthless job where her career should be, she longs to be a writer, but is too scared to try. That is, until she is inspired by, of all people, Julia Child.

I cannot make French food; I can barely make enough meals of any nationality to require counting them with my toes in addition to my fingers. I just have a job I don't like and a deep longing for some sort of meaningful career. My biggest problem is that I don't know what that would be.

Microbiology was great in college, but the jobs you can get with a B.S. in biology aren't jobs that I want to do for an extended period of time. I could have gone on to get my masters, but I didn't really want to do that, either. I have a nagging feeling that I will only be happy if I can find a job, and hopefully, a career, in which I can be creative.

I love to write, but whenever I mention that to someone, I am invariably met with this response: "There's no money in writing." I would love to retort that some things, such as happiness, are worth more than money, but I will not stoop to that level of triteness. I also have an interest in drawing and painting, but I don't need any helpful captains of the obvious to tell me that the phrase "starving artist" is in our lexicon for a reason.

So for now, I continue to work in the field to which I consigned myself in college. And I have started blogging in an attempt to satisfy my restless creative soul while I search (read: fumble blindly) for a career I can love. So I will write... about whatever comes to mind. Just the sheer act of typing is soothing. I love the tapping of my fingernails on the keys, and I love watching words and paragraphs drizzle onto the screen like icing on a cake.

At some point, I'll look back at what I wrote, realize that I've blathered on about nothing for several paragraphs, and feel acutely embarrassed about it, but right now, I'm just enjoying the clackity-clack of catharsis.

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