It looks like I may be able to procure a job at Blockbuster this summer. I've got the blank application on my desk. I'm not really sure if I want the job or not. It's better than being a grocery clerk at Shithole, the Food Mart for Passive-Aggressive Type-A Managers, but Blockbuster's not exactly glamorous. Then again, I need the money, and I don't know where else I could work. I guess we'll see.

What do I want to be when I grow up? I've left the question of my future occupation to a poll of my friends, and so far Professional Wrestler and Mime are tied. Other choices were Wealthy Hobo, Elephant Man, Flamingo Trainer, and Inept Mortician. Since I can neither pantomime nor bust a cap in anybody's ass in a coffin-cage match, I think I should start seriously considering the topic more. I'm also afraid of dead people, I've never taught a flamingo to fetch, I don't know how to jump a train, and I don't have elephantiasis. Obviously, I am underqualified in the job market. I don't know what I'm going to do. Any ideas?

Seriously, though...what in the world am I going to do? Everybody else knows where they're going to go to college and what they want to study. I think my guidance counselor's starting to get annoyed with me. My friends/parents/teachers ask me what career I'm planning on, and I reply, "Cheap hooker. Or maybe a Colombian druglord. It really depends on whether I opt for Harvard or Princeton." I don't know. I honestly have no fucking clue what I'm going to do after high school. Hell, I don't know what I'm doing in eighteen minutes, let alone eighteen months.

A year and a half. Holy shit. I have a year and a half to plan the rest of my life as I know it. Mime's looking more and more likely all the time.