Regret is a funny thing.
I know many people proudly claim that they “live without regrets,” but I must admit that, sometimes, I regret.
Sometimes, I regret little things…
Sometimes, I regret spending three bucks on a latte because the espresso is all burnt-tasting.
Sometimes, I regret when I started dying my hair, because now I’m addicted.
Sometimes, I regret wearing those shoes today, because I forgot how much they hurt.
Sometimes, I regret eating that extra cookie, because oh-my-goodness! I am full.
Sometimes, I regret signing up for this NaBloPoMo thing, because I’m awful at planning ahead.
Lately, though, a little part of me has been regretting my college major.
There, I said it.
I don’t know why I feel more compelled to confess and ruminate over things when I write them down, but there you have it.
I haven’t yet admitted it, not even to myself, but I secretly wonder: What if I had majored in something I actually wanted to be? What if I had a Visual Communication Design degree right now, instead of contemplating spending $21,000 to get a third bachelors degree? What if I had taken more time to explore the fields instead of focusing on just acing my classes?
You probably noticed I didn’t come back from my meeting with the academic advisor jubilant and bubbling. That’s because it will take me FOUR years, going part-time for three of those years, to get a B.A. in VCD. Not to mention $21K.
My head is swirling with decisions of where to get the education to launch my graphic design (what I hope will be) career – two years or four? $4,200 or $21,000? Community college or reputable school?
I drive myself crazy calculating and hemming and hawing over what my choice will mean. I ask myself if this is even what I really want to do. What if I spend that money and am WRONG?
Then I saw this quote on a blog I adore:
Don’t think about it too much. Don’t make pro and con lists. Pro and con lists are nothing but trouble. If you think about it too much, you’ll just end up staying home and then someday you’ll be telling your grandchildren, “I always wanted to do that” instead of showing them photos of the trips you took and giving them advice on where to go. My family and friends often say to me, “I’m living vicariously through you.” Don’t ever live vicariously. This is YOUR life. Live.
-Lavinia Spalding
…and I felt like I had opened a well-timed fortune cookie. The questions are still difficult to wrestle with, the decision overwhelming.
But I can do it.
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