I remember when I was younger, I had an exact idea of who I wanted to be. I envisioned that I’d be a lawyer, who was crazy successful, and rolling in the dough. My reasoning behind that chosen profession was because of its status. Lawyers are respected, and that was something I wanted. Later on I’d come to find out that it was not something I enjoyed. My passion is literature, but, in my teenage opinion, this was not a suitable endeavor. I’ve always fashioned myself as someone practical. My rationale was that I’d get a legit degree, have a “serious” career and live happily ever after. So that’s what I set out to do. A few years and a Political Science degree later, I have my “serious” career and am successful, yet I am absolutely miserable. The one thing I didn’t count on when I was growing up is that you need to have a drive or sense of purpose in the things you do. Don’t get me wrong, I do my job and I do it well, but when all is said and done at the end of the day, I can’t say I’m living “the dream”. You always hear the sage wisdom of “do what you love” or “money isn’t everything”. Of course my younger cynical self thought otherwise, but I’ve come to realize that it’s true, at the end of the day, no matter how big the paycheck, if you aren’t happy doing what you’re doing, you aren’t happy, period. So currently, I am at a crossroads in my life. Do I, play it safe by sticking with the status quo of making good money in a career I could not give two shits about; or move to the city with aspirations to become a successful writer? At this point, I’d kill to have a life blueprint right about now.