- When I was eight, I wanted to be a paleontologist. What eight year-old boy doesn’t like dinosaurs?
- When I was twelve, I wanted to be an engineer. I was the kid who asked for Legos in bulk. I made some pretty mad Cityscapes.
- When I was fifteen, I wanted to be a musician. I thought my mediocre keyboard skills could take me somewhere. I was in a band for like a day.
- When I was eighteen, I wanted to be a diplomat. I was naive enough to believe I could help the United States from making the same mistakes again.
- When I was twenty-one, I became a retail analyst. After two years I quit.
Last week my posts were nothing more than rants about the trivial occurrences at my day job. This will continue. However, I thought it be good to say a bit about myself, and I wrote nothing yesterday because, let’s face it, who wants to do more than the bare minimum on Monday?
Outside of work, I’m a fiction writer, currently working on a collection of short stories. Through these works I explore the balance of youth and adulthood, that precarious time of life I find myself in. Apart from my diatribes on office life, I’ll be posting excerpts of my fiction on this blog. Indeed, this is where a great deal of my work had been inspired.
So that’s all I’m willing to say about myself for now. And I’ll work on the Monday thing, since I don’t consider this work.