Depression set in about 7:30. Suddenly all I could think of was the ways I had failed, missed opportunities and connections. The guys I never called back because I was scared. The employers I never contacted because I was sure they wouldn't hire me. I thought of what I did want to do- to write- and thought of how impossible it was to do that. I could blog, but who would read it? I could work for hard news, but breaking into newspapers or TV stations seemed to hard and ultimately, I only had the minutest interest in hard news. I wanted to write about my experiences and interests. I wanted to travel to Spain and have someone pay me to send them writings about my adventures. I wanted to be Jack Kerouac, Hunter S. Thompson and Diablo Cody all in one.
Researching how to have a successful blog told me two things- either advertise on websites or connect with popular bloggers so they would give you a shout out on their blogs, driving readers to you. Starting out in news seemed dreary and boring, writing about subjects you don't care about and local news that nobody cared about. In every single field I was interested in, it looked like every single person in America also wanted to do it. My cause seemed hopeless. Corporate life was inevitable.
But perhaps there was still some hope. Maybe I could get my act together and start blogging or writing. I could contact all the newspapers and magazines and ask if I could freelance for them. I could write down my adventures and sell them anyway. I could finish my short stories and try to sell them. I could write and make shorts to get them sold at movie festivals. I'm safe for another month here at college. I have tons of time. I can do it. I should do it. My depression banished, I began making plans for the future instead.
