When I first started college I was 100% sure I would pursue a career in the medical field. Practically everyone in my family is in the medical field, and I love learning about biology and medical related practices. It just seemed natural.
Then one day I found a little black macbook and everything changed.
In 2006 my father moved from town out to the lake. As fate would have it, we found the aforementioned macbook under the front seat of the U-Haul.
After many failed attempts to contact the original owners, I claimed the computer as my own. And the fantasy began. The mac wasn't really in working order, but every time I opened it up I felt like Carrie Bradshaw on Sex and the City, minus the sex, cosmopolitans, career and trim figure. Other than those minor details, we were practically kin.
I dreamed of having a column in a newspaper or magazine, filling the minds of America with my wit and charm. And with that dream in mind, I changed my major to Communication Arts and began to write.
It was slow going. And still is.
Over the past four years, I've struggled with my writing, realized I hate the atmosphere of magazines and newspapers and slowly started to become the type of writer I want to be.
Now if I could only quit ending sentences with prepositions, I would practically be Carrie Bradshaw. All in do time, fair readers. All in do time.
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