The author at 17. Head full of dreams. Also full of crippling insecurities. I am trying really hard not to let this kid down, but also not to follow her shitty advice.
I keep wavering between my hippie heart and my Midwestern protestant stock. Sometimes I think, dude, like, you should only work a job that you love so hard it rattles your marrow, namaste. And then my Lutheran-raised pragmatic self chimes in to say, why does your job have to be your life's passion? Why can't you just have a whatever job, and then a life to go home to that makes you feel light as a dandelion seed?