Coffee and a Conversation
As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.
Growing up, I never wanted to be the stereotypical firefighter, policeman, or astronaut. Instead, I dreamed of being:
English teacher. I had a doctor's kit, including a stethoscope, but instead of playing doctor, I would take the syringe and pretend it was pen and mark up invisible papers. I really wanted to teach people where to put commas, not save lives.
Read MoreOne of the biggest realizations I had at NASCAR was that I loved to write. This really isn't anything new, so it's more of a rekindled notion rather than a realization. Anyways, I compiled a mental list of how I came to the conclusion that writing is probably one of my few true passions in life. Here's some of the highlights from the list:- To start with an obvious one, I started a blog as a hobby. - I really wanted to study English in college but didn't think it was pragmatic enough. - When I'm at work, I sometimes daydream about writing for myself rather than our clients. - I casually google search topics such as "creative writing seminars" like that's what normal people do. - When I ran into my first grade teacher she said she thought I'd have become a writer.
So clearly, if first grade me liked writing and so does current me, it's something I should be doing more of. However, the only type of writing I love is self-reflexive humor pieces, opinion editorials about inane current events, and extensive research papers.
Journalism doesn't quite work for me, as the most hard hitting news story I've written is about leggings not being real pants. Even when I wrote a front page article about the African drummers that came to our school, I somehow rambled at length about me dancing to it. How no one edited out my editorialized narration about myself is beyond me.
I've also dappled in fiction, and see this as the most probable fashion of actually pursuing writing, except for the issue that unless I am retelling exact stories, my imagined ones make no sense. My first piece of fiction that I remember writing was from third grade, where I wrote a story about taking a walk behind my house with a frog and then running from a bear, only for him to come tuck me into bed. When you're a kid you're supposed to have a good imagination, except for me apparently.
If I had it my way, I would take Joel Stein's job. The guy just writes about himself all the time and is hilarious. Getting paid to disseminate my opinions to the masses is essentially what my end goal would be. Unfortunately, that job doesn't really exist to apply for. Trust me, I've been trying.