Only losers have never read Jane Austen.

Do you ever feel like sort of a loser? I mean, not necessarily “uncool” or stupid or anything…but more of a loser in the sense that what people expect of you (or what you expect of yourself) is pretty far off from what you actually accomplish?

I’ll put this thought in context for you. I’ve always joked about how, in college, I was a totally sucky excuse for an English major. I say that I joked about it, but in all honesty I did think (and still kind of DO think) that I never fully met my potential as an English major. I consider the repertoire of books I’ve read, and it’s meager at best, compared to what a “typical” English major has read. Dostoyevsky (it’s a wonder I can even spell his name), Jane Austen (zilch), Chaucer, Catch-22, The Iliad, Hemingway, Moby Dick…honestly, I don’t really even know anything about literature, when it comes down to it. Despite tons of classes in the four years of undergraduate education, I didn’t retain much. And it bums me out sometimes, realizing how little I really took away from a $100,000 education. There were so many times I slacked off because I knew I could get away with it. Times I let socializing interfere with my studies.

I beat myself up for having been so callous, so indifferent. So unappreciative of the opportunities I was being handed left and right — opportunities to flourish. To learn from incredible professors, like Dr. Drewry who knows like 14 languages, and Dr. Noble who can analyze just about any piece of literature in a hundred different ways. I wish sometimes that I could go back and re-take some of those classes. Really determine to focus and study and soak it all in.

Anyway, I guess I’ve been feeling loserish lately, in this regard. Maybe it’s because I’ve been racking my brain for ideas about what sort of “career” I should be pursuing. Cuz let’s face it, while it’s relatively easy, pays well and is a blessing beyond my expectations…I don’t want to be an admin forever. And thoughts like these lead me into thoughts like, Okay, so I can name a bunch of stuff I don’t want to do, but what do I want, then? And the scary thing is, I really don’t know. Joe offers me suggestions and ideas for things he thinks I’d be really good at, but a lot of the time, I just can’t see myself LIKING it — nevermind whether I can DO it. There’s plenty I know I could do well but have exactly zero interest in doing.

And the one thing I might have been really great at and loved, I gave up by being complacent and unappreciative. (Believe it or not, I’m talking about even before I became an English major. What I gave up was Journalism, and I feel more and more like if I had stuck with it another semester or two, I could be working for a huge newspaper right now. Of course, it seems to always be in hindsight that things look so great, but maybe if I had gotten into that field, I’d still be thinking I should be doing something ELSE. Vicious cycle.)

So, I’m a loser. I know, I know, it’s not true. I really do know that I’ve accomplished a lot, and I have tons of potential, and tons of time to find ways to flourish and things to do that I love and can excel in… I know it, and yet there are these moments when I just wish I had been more persistent. Appreciative. Studious. Focused. Aware of the fact that I had so many great resources at hand to help me figure out all this stuff I’m trying to figure out now. No regrets, of course, because everything in life leads me to the next thing. Chances are, if I’d made any decisions differently, even down to the smallest choice, I might not have met Joe. So I wouldn’t change any of it, if for no other reason than that. I just…gah. I’m talking in circles. I just want to learn more. I want to learn everything I missed out on because of selfishness, idleness, laziness…

So I guess it’s a good thing I kept a lot of those old textbooks.

Posted for Three Word Wednesday (3WW).