So I was talking to LNE about the vicissitudes of life. That sounds so mundane & hackneyed, I know, but she now faces one of those inevitable moments where a decision needs to be made about one's professional career--(un)fortunately, I don't have to make that decision, what with the continuous pall of MS. I can't remember the specifics of the conversation, but it may have been about her imminent start at a downtown law firm. She has a bachelor's degree in biology, as well (mine is within the lucrative domain of English), so her domain is fairly wide with regard to what she wants to do. I have no interest in science, so until I entered college, free of the requisite courses of high school, I entertained a generic curiosity of a career in medicine. It's laughable now, but, among the things I unpacked upon arriving on my college campus were two MCAT study books. I went to a fairly basic biology course during our "shopping period" (so named because of the non-binding nature of the commitment), & it was abundantly clear that I had no interest in physical science (those courses were bundled beneath the mantle of Group IV, which also included mathematics, another area I clearly had no interest in). I said something offhand, but the profundity of it was lost at the time. It just seemed like a nice analogy to use; only later did the unfolding layers of cognitive reason there begin to assume the indiscriminate but definite amplitude of phyllo (or "filo").
You know the game Plinko on The Price is Right? The arbitrariness of the concept of fate, along with the whim of chance, is on full display there. Now, one can start anywhere, but it's advisable to start near the middle. Similarly, I thought a career in medicine (it's so funny because it just seems insane now) would vastly improve my chances of reaching that middle jackpot of $10,000. The thing was, though, that you could just as easily end up in the "0"s on either side of the big money. Everyone tried for that, though, & nearly everyone was disappointed. You could take the easy sure thing & end up with a modicum of money, but doing so meant a kind of preemptive defeat. It was just boring.
The same can be said of my aspirations of a career in medicine. (It's still hilarious to contemplate. Seriously, could you imagine? Just hilarious.) As awful as it is to admit, the money side of it appealed to me. By far, the most "successful" of my family was an aunt that married a gynecologist--really, how funny is that? This was a good person who demanded profound respect. My aunt...that's a different story. Okay, enough--before I bore even myself, I'll move on.
Now, I wanted to avoid the foreseeable obstacles that would prevent me from garnering easy cash. However, I couldn't bear the prospect of becoming a minor cog. In the machine, man. Before I start sounding like Dennis Hopper (RIP) in Apocalypse Now, I'll simply say that I refused to adhere to any predetermined path. Now, it's important to note that this aspiration for a conventional life is not foolish. Quite the contrary; it's admirable & pragmatic. It's just not for me.
Quick sidebar: an ex-girlfriend, from college (if you know me, you know who I mean), used to say that she wanted "to be famous." Not a good painter or actress (of which she was both), mind you. Famous. This always deeply troubled me. Like an itch that you know is there, but can't reach. It's perceptible--you know something is uncomfortable, but you can't get to it. Finally, I couldn't ignore it anymore, & I found a tree & went to town. I honestly have no idea what the tree would be in this metaphor. Oh well, whatever, nevermind...
Now, what with the limitations of MS, & the effect of stress on my symptoms, thankfully I didn't pursue this extremely kinetic & onerous path that was supposed to be safe but was, more accurately, a constant weight on your mind that, silently, could spread like insidious cancer. Anyways, going for the safe money is BORING. No one likes to watch somebody who settles. Like in Plinko, the exciting thing is to risk ruin. I would boo the shit out of someone who started in a corner, because the odds are that you'll end up with something--anything, really. I think it's better to take a risk. Strategically.
Sure, the odds are greater that you'll come up with nothing, but it helps to have a little ammunition (see: talent) at your disposal. If you are a bad actress, for example, the odds are infinitesimal that you'll hit it big & win the jackpot. Unless, of course, you're a Kardashian.
R
