What the heck am I going to do with my life?

     Five weeks. I have five weeks to figure out what I am going to do with my life. In five weeks, I will be an alumni of The College of Charleston, and as of now I have no idea what I want to do post-grad. I have had a few different career aspirations over the years, but I am still confused. 

     In high school I loved to write. My English teacher junior year set my passion for writing on fire. She told me I was good at it. I immediately knew I was going to be a journalist. I had never had a talent before. I have no athletic capability. I can't sing. I don't play an instrument; although, I forced my father to be me a guitar when i was 10-years-old. I took two lessons before I decided the instructor creeped me out. I am not artistic. I am definitely not the brightest crayon in the box, and  to my misfortune, I am also not a model. I was ecstatic to finally be good at something. As high school progressed, my love for journalism morphed into a love for broadcast journalism. I became infatuated with Oprah and Katie Couric, and I knew that one day I would be just like them. I watched the Today Show, and Oprah religiously. 

     When I enrolled at the college I was eager to let everyone know my plans for the future, and I immediately declared my major in communication media studies. Then I got discouraged. Everyone who I told about my dream to be an anchor shot me down. I persevered for a semester or so, and then gave up and changed my major -- to early childhood education. That lasted for half a semester, and I switched back to communication. This time I decided to focus on broadcast, and most of my electives were focused on television. That is until my last semester. My last semester ever. 

     I needed one more communication elective to graduate. It had to be a writing class. Hmm...I think I used to like to write. I had forgotten. My freshman year I decided that I was no  longer good at writing. My English classes discouraged me by handing me C after C on literary essays, and I had come to accept that my high school teacher must have been wrong about me. I was not a good writer. I decided my final semester was just as good of a time as any to find out the truth for myself, and I signed up for opinion writing. 

     The class is taught by a local newspaper writer who knows his shit. This was obvious to me right away. I received my first assignment back with the grade of a 95. There are three weeks of classes left. I have gotten high A's on almost every assignment in the class, and once again, I have fallen deeply in love with writing, and I have no idea what to do with my life. 

     The plan is to find a job and start freelancing. Fingers crossed, I will get a few things published, and I will be able to build up my resume. Ideally, I would like to have my own column. I would really like to have an assignment editor say "Shannon, I trust you. You are good at what you do. Write about whatever you want, and it will be published." Then I could rant and rave about all of things that annoy me most, and I would get paid at the same time. Dream Job. But for the meantime, I will blog. I plan on posting all the things I have written all of the things I will write. Maybe someone will stumble upon this place and fall in love with my writing while I am trying to figure out to do with myself. That sure would be nice.