That's a "like father, like son" joke, except with days of the week, like how Classic writes on Saturday and I do on Sunday. Ok, bad start. Also, what I write here will mostly apply to the people who know me. Another bad start. But remember how Classic stuck it to the man by throwing a finger to math, practical life decisions and his future when he switched his major to film studies?
I'm doing that. (I think.) I'm not positive yet, because I've only been bouncing the idea around my head and others' heads for about a week now, but fuuuuck journalisssmmm. It sucks. So far, journalism is reporting. It is going to crappy events, conducting interviews, shuffling facts, vacuuming out your soul through a pen, avoiding any kind of offense to all demographics both real and invented, editing, double editing, emails, triple editing, brutal hours, and frowns. I don't like it. I think I can safely assume it gets more enjoyable in the upper level classes, when I can actually get into investigatory journalism and magazine writing, but I don't know that that's enough for me. There's the fear that I'll dig through all the shit of college, get out, and be hammered by debt. My banks will cast me into a corner at gunpoint, where I'll begin my entry-level news reporting job at the local town gazette. From there my career spins off and sidetracks, and before I know it, I'm 46 years old with a wife and three kids, working at a dead-end job I will never love. Because there are very few jobs available in journalism these days, and there are very few journalism jobs I would actually love doing. And journalism is the idealistic, poverty-stricken major I boldly set out for with wide eyes last autumn.
So journalism is not idealistic enough for me. I won't settle until I've exchanged my impending lower-5-figure salary for a 4-figure. That's a joke. (I think.) Anyway, two weeks ago I had no intention of leaving journalism. One week ago, I gave myself a 10% chance of kissing it goodbye. After bringing it up and talking about it with some other people, I'm at around 51%. That's a fast change. And a big one, so I'm sticking with journalism at least until next year. I don't think I'll decide on anything until around the fall or spring semester. But there's still the chance I'll be deciding.
Creative writing. Oh my god.
What a stupid major. What a stupid, stupid major, but that's what I want to do. Journalism is a major where there are limited jobs. Creative writing is a major where there are literally 0 jobs. Okay, maybe like 10. A negligible amount. But that's what I want to do. I'm tired of pragmatics. I'm tired of planning and growing up and schedules and working hard for no return and emails. God I'm so tired of emails. I'm sick of holding off on doing what I love and replacing it with obligations. Are you really going to be an investigatory journalist for that major magazine or outlet and find or make the time on the side to write a novel? Are you really, Robert? Shit noooo. So I have a decision to make. 1) Poverty. Discontent. 2) Desperate poverty.
DO WHAT YOU LOVE.