2001-05-08 :: 2:24 p.m.
If I try to look at my life and where I want to be, it's even a really fucking daunting task to set a goal for next week, let alone for next year. But let's give it a shot: Okay, by October 2001, I would like to be on my way to working in a field I really enjoy. I say October because that's when my loan deferral ends. I was thinking I might like to work in the Creative division of this here makeup madness. I would love to assist the artists with the design of the boxes and the colors and all that jazz. Either that or getting paid to write. Yeesh. That would mean I would have to let people read what I write. Oh God, nevermind. Scratch that. On the side, I want to be making movies. And I hope that if I get hired full time and I'm making a decent amount of money, I can move out of my apartment and into a nicer, bigger one. Or a smaller, cooler one in Manhattan. Hopefully, this can be done by mid-2002. Is that unrealistic? Probably. Whatever. I'm dreaming here, so shut it. More long-term: Sometime by 2003, I think I may want a boyfriend. Maybe. Or at least the attempt of someone who will probably be permanent. I'll be 28 by then. I think that's a fairly reasonable goal. By the age of 33, I hope I've got my bases covered. I would like to be able to stay at home and write if I want to. I hope I can be that financially secure. (Who the fuck just sprayed their entire cube with perfume? It fucking reeks!) I think by then I may want to have a baby. Holy shit, did I just say that? I need a cold washcloth for my head. I wrote the coolest song the other day.
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