Blind Date

Tomorrow's the big event: the long anticipated blind date.

I'm really excited, almost obnoxiously so.

I want this to work, and I want this to be the start something for a change, but I've had this creeping idea lately that maybe I'm meant to be single . . . single, single, and it's making a lot of sense. What I want to do with every fiber of who I am is something that doesn't mesh well with a family, doesn't mesh well with having a significant other. And the things I want to do with my life, they almost literally keep me up at night as I think about how I can get from place A to place K.

It's food for thought, though. Maybe I'm meant to be single . . . . Everyone says that something you need to come to terms with at some point in your adult life before you can truly have a "successful relationship," so either way, whether I'm bound for it or just passing through, it's a step that I need to take.

Alright, this post is lame. Apologizes to all named and anonymous readers. The next one will be better.

The Life I Want

I want to be a certain sort of person who lives a certain sort of life.

I want to the sort of person who is perpetually a dreamer because being realistic is overrated.
I want to be the sort of person who has true tales of adventures abroad.
I want to be the sort of person who has nothing but love for every person I encounter along this crazy path but life.
I want to be the most intense person you've ever met.
I want to be different, markedly different.
I want to be crazy about Jesus.

I want to live a life worthy of writing about.
I want to fall madly in love in a way the world has yet to know.
I want to feel alive every moment of the day, every day of my life.
I want to travel the world and call no single country my home, but I'd rather lead the life of a nomad, a student of cultures.
I want to do something that will make every person who's ever met me want to brag about it.

I want something so much greater than the mundanities of this life.
I want somethin bigger.

Work

During the past week, I've had discussions with both my sister and a close friend of mine regarding whether women ought to stay home with their children or continue to work. Both concurred that women should stay home until their children are 10-12 and able to watch themselves, but to my surprise, I found that I had a different take on the issue -- I hate to say it, but my kids, whomever they wind up being, will probably have things like daycare because I really want to work.

I really, really want to work.

At this point, I practically resent college. I am ready to be out in the world, making my impact. I am at odds with the idea that college hinders me from doing this, internships aside, for the next few years and that grad school will have the same effect.

Not that I've ever contemplated not going to college. College is my means of achieving an end. I understand that more than anything else, but I'm aching to be doing something greater, something larger, something more grandioese.

My eventual goal is to work for some organization like the Department of State, the UN, or WorldBank, but I want to RIGHT NOW.

Ugh. Patience is not one of my virtues.