As a child, I was expected to light the world on fire.
I had leads in school plays, solos in choir, lettered in academia, ruled my arts high school, even teaching a few classes (under a real teacher's supervision). I spoke 3 languages. I was on the library board and the board for the local arts alliance. My parents would come back from parent-teacher confrences glowing, saying that every single one of my teachers thought that I could go far in whatever field they taught, from science to math to English or theatre (the sole exception was my dance teacher, who said I had promise, but you can't really begin a dancing career in high school).
The world remains unlit. Damp, even. The opposite of flammable.
I don't have anything legitimate or impressive to put on my resume. I don't have much of a social life, and even less of one now that I'm living at home for the summer. I don't have hobbies (at the very least my hobbies are sedentary and solitary). I'm becoming less and less motivated as I get closer and closer to graduation, like a deer in headlights, not really knowing what to do.
I know, I know. I'm young, there's still time. But Bret Easton Ellis had two books under his belt by the time he was my age. Rimbaud had exploded with creativity and given up poetry all together. Michael Moore was elected to public office. Dostoevsky had written his first novel. Mandy Moore had had a hit album, and Bow Wow has had like, four. Basquiat was a big name in the arts scene. Alexander Hamilton was famous for his literary attacks on Parliment. Dozens of young people are mentioned in the latest TeenPeople magazine for starting their own charity at the age of 14.
And I, to put it succinctly, stand and scan. For hours and hours. Sometimes I go do carts, but mostly I just stand and scan.
Why the sudden burst of meloncholia, then?
Because today I showed up for work and found out that I was to train two people who flunked out of my high school. I remember being in classes with them, how they'd sit in the back and just sort of stare blankly if the teacher called on them, or how they'd constantly forget to do homework. One was even suspended for putting vodka in his water bottle.
Sure, it was kinda awkward training them, as I recognized them and they recognized me. But it was also depressing. I work with high school dropouts. I may have a bit more clout, but not much. They'll be one register down, doing the same thing as I. Standing and scanning. There are 'lifers' who've been doing this for years, including one woman who remembered when she used to type in the UPC codes by hand, with no scanner.
If I had more motivation, I would find another job, or a second job. Even if it didn't pay as well per hour, but to have something else, not to surround myself with high school kids, dropouts, and lifers. But if I had more motivation, I probably would have found a decent internship for the summer, or at least a job down in Madison, where if I had a shitty job, at least I'd be living on my own and hanging out with friends with shitty, temporary jobs, instead of people who stay here and see it as a career, not a crappy summer job.
Anyone know where I can buy a fuse?
