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A Month of Freedom

3/19/2014

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March 2014, so far, has been defined by freedom.

Freedom to drink.

Freedom from my job. Telemarketing is a good gig if you can get it, and I was raising money for my school, but it’s very difficult. You catch people at their worst - divorced, sick, dying, poor. And it’s a Sisyphean task - every dollar you raise is tossed into the maw of your school, gobbled up, leaving it only hungrier for more.

I had been good. And enthusiastic. But I began to feel something different.

Once the apathy arrived, I knew it was time to go.

Freedom from a major I wasn’t enjoying. I felt like I’d been shoved into a doorless corridor, nothing behind me, escape only reachable by a long, long run. I thought I could make it, but I pushed on and refused to give up. An admirable attitude in some circumstances, foolish in others. This was the later. After a meaningful talk with the department counselor (who was FANTASTIC), I realized Economics was not my forté.

It’s a terrible lie we tell children that you can be anything you want to be. You can’t. And colliding face-to-face with that revelation knocked me for a loop, but I felt relieved. I had been trying to mutate myself into something else. Why not focus on what I already am? Why be ashamed of what you are good at? That’s a recipe for misery. I know. I’ve lived it.

Currently I think I’m going to go into Geography. Enrolling in those classes, and dropping the Econ courses, lightened my shoulders. I nearly cried for joy. The class descriptions sparked my interest, instead of filling me with dread.

I’m not sure how this will go. Who knows? I don’t.

But at least I’m free to try.

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