A Different Kind of French Fries

More or less 15 years ago, while kids my age were dreaming of becoming an astronaut, a doctor, a lawyer, a policeman, or the next Britney Spears, I was dreaming of only one thing—to live in a room full of unlimited French fries for the rest of my life. I basically lied to my parents about wanting to become a successful doctor, help people, and save lives. All I wanted back then was fries, flowing and unending. I literally had dreams about it. There was even a house made of French fries in one of those dreams. Before I even reached the first decade of my life, I had already made up my mind about the one food I would want to eat for the rest of my life if I were to be stuck in an island.

Now that I'm older (and smarter enough to know that French fries contain free radicals that could cut more or less a decade off my expected life span), I realized two things: (1) it's okay to dream about ridiculous things when you're a kid, and (2) everything changes, even dreams.

Okay. I didn't entirely lie to my parents about wanting to become a successful MD. I did want to become one at one point in my life. I took premed in college for Pete's sake. I guess I just didn't want it badly enough like all the other people I went to college with. Most of them are interns now, out to save the world and make it a better place by battling constantly evolving diseases. Sometimes, I can't help obsessing about what could've been if everything only held itself long enough for me to make it to med school. It really sucks to realize that I spent the last three years of my life watching everybody else eat French fries, and I'm the sick girl who can't have any of it.

Don't get me wrong. I'm perfectly happy where I am now. Like I said in my blog entry yesterday, I have a job and a lot of titles. I guess it's just human nature to want something you can never have, sometimes even things that are not meant to be for you.

As always, I'm choosing to look at the bright side. My old man always told me everything has a reason and purpose. Hell, I'm not even sure if I'm really feeling what I'm feeling right now. For all I know, this is just PMS starting to set in. Whatever. All I know is that maybe I'm meant for a different kind of French fries.

And it's going to take a lot of patience, dedication, and hard work for me to know at the right time.

I have to go. There are black ants stuck to my wall in strategic spots. They seriously look like they're going to volt in, turn into a big robot, and kill me.

Ciao!