It was an impromptu thing, not really planned, we just kinda...did it. My order is reasonably consistent. I may change drinks between a strawberry lemonade and milkshake (in this case the latter), but my meal is always the same: the classical sampler. (Cheese sticks, chicken strips, and onion rings.) I left off the side of fries though, since I didn't think I'd have that. My two sauces are marinara and barbecue.
It's a decent meal, and reasonably filling.
On the way home, my sister asked me about my plans come summer.
I said I hadn't thought about it.
That's.
Not quite true.
The more accurate answer would be.
I have.
And don't really like the answer.
I have little doubt in my mind I would be a very competent drafter--among the best. Details are what I do. I've got a good instructor. I have the natural knack for it, I have the know-how, the skills, the talent, the ability, everything I'd need to do well at the job, I know I would have.
Yet.
The biggest thing is.
I'm still not sure this is what I want to do.
Even that's not true--it's actually something I definitely feel I don't want to do.
I just...I don't have any better ideas, I suppose.
I chose to walk this path--and I can walk it well. I know I can walk it well.
But I don't really want to walk it. I chose to walk it, yes. But that's mostly because...I just don't have any better options, any better ideas, in mind.
It's a good default.
It's something I would be skilled at.
Yet I honestly feel like...it's not what I really want.
I have justified it as a means to an end. Get a job, get independent, then I can start to maybe transition and get my life where I want it to be. That would be highly desirable. Yet while the end goal is something I really want. Would it really be worth it?
I just. I'm not sure this is a road I really want to go down--especially since the only thing I'm really in it for is for a reward I might never even get. The hope is that independence, that level of connection, that ability to live on my own and transition. The reality may be far less glorious.
I mean.
What else can I really do?
I've proven, time and time again, I can't keep my writing at the level necessary to go professional.
I've no desire to go professional with art, and even if I did, I'm not good enough to do so and even if I was, my lack of commitment to art is even worse than my lack of commitment to writing.
I can't really advance within the Y. I mean, there's theoretically the opportunity to. Lifeguard to Lead Guard to Coordinator to Director to maybe even higher than that, or a similar chain. Yet. I'm not sure if I can manage that.
Those three are literally the only alternatives to me. I've got no other skills at my hand. Anything else would be learned from scratch, from nothing. And probably face even worse problems than the above.
I just. I don't really know what I want to do--I don't know who I want to be.
The things I enjoy most.
Are interacting with people.
Helping people.
And expressing myself, be it through art or more commonly, words.
Yet.
I don't know how to make a life out of that, especially given my autism and bipolar disorder.
I just have that feeling of me walking aimlessly without knowing where it is I'm going.
It's a decent meal, and reasonably filling.
On the way home, my sister asked me about my plans come summer.
I said I hadn't thought about it.
That's.
Not quite true.
The more accurate answer would be.
I have.
And don't really like the answer.
I have little doubt in my mind I would be a very competent drafter--among the best. Details are what I do. I've got a good instructor. I have the natural knack for it, I have the know-how, the skills, the talent, the ability, everything I'd need to do well at the job, I know I would have.
Yet.
The biggest thing is.
I'm still not sure this is what I want to do.
Even that's not true--it's actually something I definitely feel I don't want to do.
I just...I don't have any better ideas, I suppose.
I chose to walk this path--and I can walk it well. I know I can walk it well.
But I don't really want to walk it. I chose to walk it, yes. But that's mostly because...I just don't have any better options, any better ideas, in mind.
It's a good default.
It's something I would be skilled at.
Yet I honestly feel like...it's not what I really want.
I have justified it as a means to an end. Get a job, get independent, then I can start to maybe transition and get my life where I want it to be. That would be highly desirable. Yet while the end goal is something I really want. Would it really be worth it?
I just. I'm not sure this is a road I really want to go down--especially since the only thing I'm really in it for is for a reward I might never even get. The hope is that independence, that level of connection, that ability to live on my own and transition. The reality may be far less glorious.
I mean.
What else can I really do?
I've proven, time and time again, I can't keep my writing at the level necessary to go professional.
I've no desire to go professional with art, and even if I did, I'm not good enough to do so and even if I was, my lack of commitment to art is even worse than my lack of commitment to writing.
I can't really advance within the Y. I mean, there's theoretically the opportunity to. Lifeguard to Lead Guard to Coordinator to Director to maybe even higher than that, or a similar chain. Yet. I'm not sure if I can manage that.
Those three are literally the only alternatives to me. I've got no other skills at my hand. Anything else would be learned from scratch, from nothing. And probably face even worse problems than the above.
I just. I don't really know what I want to do--I don't know who I want to be.
The things I enjoy most.
Are interacting with people.
Helping people.
And expressing myself, be it through art or more commonly, words.
Yet.
I don't know how to make a life out of that, especially given my autism and bipolar disorder.
I just have that feeling of me walking aimlessly without knowing where it is I'm going.
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