I am writing because I don’t know where to go. I am 25 years old, I live with my parents and 3 younger siblings out in the middle of nowhere. My parents should get divorced, because they’re no longer happy, and it makes for a house that lacks a sense of home. I’m supposed to graduate in July, little late but at least I’m there, well almost. My passion is writing, but I haven’t wrote in awhile. I haven’t done much with my writing; I should’ve been writing for local papers and taking advantage of the opportunities at the same part-time job which I’ve had for the last seven years. I’m unsure if my use of “which” is correct, or if “that” is more appropriate. I took a grammar class this past semester because it was required, but it totally fucked up my knowledge. Anyway, I’m sitting here in bed searching internships on my day off, because I haven’t interned yet, and I feel I am screwed. I never feel like I’m good enough, but I know that I am. I show it at work all the time. I take direction from my managers and I am always asking what more I can do. I teach the younger employees how best to do a job, whether it be how to arrange dirty dishes on a tray so that it doesn’t feel so heavy when lifting it up, and how to go about handling residents and their customer needs. I’m a journalism major, because I love to write, but I’m not so sure I know what I want to do with it. I recently found a document on my USB drive which reminded me of what I once found was what I wanted to do. It was a letter I had written to a past teacher of mine, saying how I wanted to be a teacher. It made me cry, because I’ve had this revelation a few times. I don’t know why people say that those who can’t do, teach. I feel like this is where I need to go. I don’t know why I have a lump in my throat as I type this. Realistically, my plan would be to teach English, write a book, and decorate cakes, for fun of course. I don’t know if this is right, it’s my future, how am I supposed to choose it now?