I figured it out! Today I walked around the National Mall. It’s D.C.’s annual Cherry Blossom Festival, and I watched Midwestern tourist parents take gag-me photos of their children backgrounded by blossom-laden trees. Last night I watched Reality Bites with Kirsten, wherein Troy tells Lelaina that the “only thing she has to be by the age of 23 is herself.” And I am currently reading a book called Please Don’t Kill the Freshman, which was written by a fifteen year-old high school girl who sort of has a thing against the world. The aforementioned factors somehow coalesced (in much the same way, I imagine, as green peas and mashed potatoes and meatloaf combine in one’s stomach, as my father always told me they would all go to the same place.) Anyways, somehow these bits swirled around in my subconscious and provided me with a Eureka moment.
Question: What do I want to do with my life?
Answer: Damn the man.
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. Any career that affords me the ability to damn the man will heretofore be considered.