What's WRONG with Me?!?!

Yo.

So I think I have this condition... and I think it's called getting soft. Or growing up. Or something. Whatever it is, I'm torn between a love for it and a hatred of it.

Here's the dealio. So the other day, I was sitting on the bus and people watching (and, yeah, okay... I was people listening, too). This thought popped into my head:

"OOOH!!! I could do a blog post called, 'The Five Types of People You Meet on the Bus!!' That would be an awesome post!" 

I started thinking of all these different categories into which I could lump these perfect strangers. Then... I realized something - these people were perfect strangers. How in the world could I categorize people I had made no effort to know? I would be basing those categories on judgments and assumptions. Those judgments and assumptions could be spot on, but they would more than likely be totally and completely wrong. You see, lately I've been thinking (which usually leads to nothing but trouble), and I've realized something that may not come as a shock to you, but it certainly did to me:

Every single person we see or meet has a story. Has a life. Has problems. Has struggles. 

Is it really fair of me, then, to lump these people into categories for the sake of a funny blog post? No. It's not. 

So maybe I've gone soft. Maybe I'm growing up. I love it because I think I'm a much nicer person than I was five years ago. I hate it because it means no funny bus blog posts. ;)

What I Want to be when I Grow Up.

Hello there, fellow Blog-lovers. 

I just read a really awesome story over here that basically says that we should love what we do so much that when we don't have to think about anything, it is what we think about. 

Well... that got me to thinking. As a lot of you may or may not know, I'm done with college. I graduated with bachelor's degrees in German and Economics. Throughout college, I bounced around a lot, [officially] changed my major at least five times, and, consequently, changed what I wanted to be when I "grew up" at least that many times. 

All of a sudden, about a month ago, it dawned on me. I want to teach high school. When that idea first popped into my head, I may or may not have checked my forehead to make sure I wasn't completely delirious and running a temperature of 105. I mean, who would willingly dive into the pool of psychotic, hormonal teenagers in the feeble attempts to teach them to love learning and knowledge? Umm, apparently me. 

This experience has not been what I expected, and I've been kind of disappointed with they way it has gone, but the moral of the story is this: Even with how much this has not been the best experience of my life, I have learned a few things.

1. I want to teach English to a bunch of psychotic, hormonal teenagers. I want to discuss literature, I want to teach kids how to write essays, I want to teach them the importance of paragraphs and commas. It's what I want to do. Will I be a millionaire? No. Will I have days where I want to punch 17-year-olds in the face? Most likely. Those things don't really matter to me when I ask myself another question, though. Will I change or impact someone's life for the better? I sure hope so. 

2. Being poor sucks. I have learned that we can not only survive, but live off of $1050 a month, with our rent, electric, tithing, and internet bills accounting for $900 of that. We can live off of $150 a month. I never thought that was possible, but I've been proven wrong. Do I ever want to be in this situation again. No. Not in a million years. Have I learned from it? You betcha. 

3. My moods are deeply impacted by the weather and having friends. Guys, I've been in pretty much a deep depression since, oh... November. I've had breakdowns at least once a week, and I have lost all motivation to do anything. It's really hard for me to put out there, but there you have it. Anyone who knows me in real life would be shocked to know that I don't even want to exercise (that's one of my all-time favorite things to do... yeah, it's okay, you can call a sadist, or crazy, or whatever - I won't blame you). I think this depression has been spurred on by the craphole that is Europe when it comes to winter weather (6 days with sunshine since November), but it's also because I don't really have any accessible friends.

4. Being poor, in a foreign country, and in a tiny town really bring you closer to your spouse. I've spent more time with Michael in the past 6 months than I got to spend with him the entire first year of our marriage (I was in 18 hours both semesters, he worked as a traveling salesman). 

5. I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. It has posed new challenges. I have seen myself deal with a problem that I never dreamed of having. I have learned the value of a dollar (or a euro, I guess). 

I have FINALLY decided what I want to be when I "grow up." 

Basically, I guess I'm saying that we should be happy, whatever we choose to be when we "grow up." And if you're worried that your career choice might disappoint someone... Think about this: 

I know people might disagree with that, but when you're choosing your career, you want to be happy, or else you'll be miserable. If you're miserable, it's really hard for anyone around you not to be.