When I was in elementary school, I wanted to be the pilot of a fighter jet. That was the ultimate career for me. I mean, what’s better than piloting a fighter jet? I’ll tell you. Lots of things are…but I didn’t know any better back then.

In middle school, I sort of forgot careers even existed. I’m not sure what was going through my head at the time but I never gave my future the tiniest bit of thought. Middle school just felt all encompassing for some reason. It was a simple life. All I had to do was pass French somehow and life would work itself out. Easy.

High school proved to be a slap in the face because that’s when I realized my life wasn’t about to figure it’s own shit out. That was quite the bummer because that meant I would actually have to put in some effort. Engineering became my obvious first option because my dad was an engineer, as was my eldest brother. Though I soon realized that I had no particular skill in that field. Next up were business and law which I found painfully boring. I ended up settling on the sciences. I gravitated towards them mainly because my grades were amazing in chemistry, physics, and biology and my parents were strong-arming me into becoming a doctor. So I was like, why not? How hard can becoming a doctor really be?

Answer: very fucking hard. Flash forward 4 years and I’m about to limp my way to a degree in Biological Science. It’s awful. I knew by my second year that I couldn’t make a career out of the sciences, and not because I was trash at it, but because it wasn’t interesting to me whatsoever. But also because I was trash at it. My grades were actually really good but I didn’t care for the subject. I only even did my MCAT because I thought it would be a waste of my time to do a degree in Biology and not at least attempt it. Low key, I’m glad my score ended up being subpar. Don’t tell my mom.

So here comes the question, what the fuck do I do with my life now? What’s my career plan?

Answer: ____________. Your guess is as good as mine.

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