Idealism

I'm the first to admit I'm an idealist. Quintessentially young and hopeful. It's not obsessive-compulsive disorder, it's just this itch in my brain that says this is what's right and you must do it. In my dumb middle-school mind I had it all planned out. I'd go through high school, learn to think, be mentally stimulated, pursue what I loved (ha!), go to college and really pursue what I loved (HA!), and find a job that left me happy and feeling fulfilled (SNORT). I could do theater tech. Japanese- oooh, yes, Japanese! I could teach for a living. When my seventh-grade algebra teacher moved to Pennsylvania I got it in my head that I was going to take her place. Right in that very room. Back when I actually showed some semblance of mathematical prowess.

Oh, yeah, and that high school? Chantilly High. I'd felt close to that school for a while; my elementary school was so close that we would do the mile test on their running track. It just felt right, that feeling that made my cruddy prepubescent brain sing Handel's Messiah, that hey, this was how it was meant to be. I didn't want to get into TJ. Sure, I took the test, wrote my essays, got the teacher recs, but I knew where I truthfully wanted to spend the next four years of my life. Besides, I looked at my classmates, saw all their fancy math trophies, and figured there was no chance in hell I was getting in.

SNORT.

And it's still the reason why I can't bring myself to get the most out of the TJ experience. Sure, it's a wonderful institution, but who wants to spend four years in an institution? It just isn't how it's meant to be- I'm a Chantilly kid! I was meant to go there! I should be right there right now having the time of my life! The ironic part is that I probably could be having the time of my life, if only I could get over my self-imposed stigma.

And that's idealism for ya. In slightly more positive news, it's the reason that this one-paragraph assignment turned out like this. Anything less, and it would've been wrong.