When I first attempted college in 1987, I dove straight into something that lacked complete and utter direction. Lost in the whirlwind of my parents happy that I had decided higher education was a good thing, I picked courses that had about as much meaning as the tar bubbles I used to pop along the side of the road in my youth. Seriously, what was I going to do with a meteorology class? I thought that Liberal Arts Degree was genius as well. Needless to say I failed miserably. My harried combination of working and going to school full-time broke my barely adult will. The youth of this country really do need direction more than a participation ribbon.
Now I was at the precipice of middle age and as a newly unmarried person, it was time to get serious about what I want to do for the rest of my life. Twisted Sister’s anthem of “I Wanna Rock” wasn’t going to cut it. For the past twenty-two years I’d been in the exciting world of retail sales. A field that, while that long tenure could be construed as a career, wasn’t at all challenging at this point. I have, however, been able to gain experience in reading budgets, managing stock levels, and learning Microsoft Office. In that, I found my goal—or more importantly—my next career path.
For me, failure was not an option. I must succeed and not muddle by—not only in the first term but every consecutive one following. Those days of carefree dreaming had past. Unfortunately, being the sole income in a household of one human slave and three furry overlords, attending classes at an actual campus was not going to be possible. Unlike my youthful self, I had the ability to take online courses. This afforded me to be in the most comfortable environment to learn. At my house, in my jammies, and rocking to whatever music struck my fancy. I’ve taken a page from my directionless youth and decided part-time would suit my needs best. The dishes don’t wash themselves, and I didn’t want the house to turn into a Wild, Wild West theme with furballs starring as the tumbleweeds. I also learned through my experience in completing mandatory training at work that distractions bombarded me no matter how big the headphones I donned were. I called it the curse of trying to learn everything about your job no matter how mundane or unattractive the position could be. How we perform, whether a transitional dishwashing jig to a high-powered office environment, will shape our skills to not only handle the job market but our personal lives.
I am the cornerstone to my success. However, I cannot rely on just myself. Pride has no place and asking for help doesn’t make me a lesser being. The ultimate goal is using the resources afforded to me to reach the end goal. I can do this.