Revelation in the face of oncoming traffic

Previous posts have documented a sense of general discontent that permeates my current existence. This despondency seems, on the outside, somewhat odd, especially given my systematic efforts to avoid anything resembling work - even as to such tasks as might suit my talents and disposition. Sloth and procrastination are two of my more able skills, yet it seems I may have honed them too sharply.

However, the next six months promise changes even I cannot evade. The imminent completion of law school, and the (hopefully) ensuing bar success brings my future into sharp focus. A legal education is not cheap, and I even have some loans from my undergraduate studies. These obligations promise to serve as the defining characteristics of my financial and professional realities for the foreseeable future.

I have avoided facing them so long as I could, an act of childish self-absorption I know, yet for all I aspire to reason and maturity, so characteristic as to be cliche. Completion of law school triggers a temporary grace period, after which my loans require repayment and my options diminish from a spectacular host of the possible to the cruel reality of the necessary.

Let it not be said, though, that I am completely hopeless. This term, in addition to my legal studies (which, I should say, have never received from me the proper attention they deserve) I have enrolled in Screenwriting at a local community college, and expect to enroll in a Digital Video class at the UC Extension, contingent on financing. These are fields that have always captivated my interests, and I've long intended to consider them in a more formal and professional setting.

I do this without expectation that it will save me from forty years of legal toil, a prospect of little joy but free, at least, from dread. Neither my beginning screenwriting class nor my introduction to digital filming will result in anything other than amateurish pretension. But that's okay. I am doing this for myself, and finally too, action brought on by the uncomfrotable revelation of impending fates. Nobody knows what the future holds, but if I am consigned to a life of unfulfilled hopes, I should not want the failure to have been one of mere effort.