I started as an English major, switched to Biology, then transferred schools to study Natural Resources Management and Latin American Studies. I was sincerely interested in all of these, but after five and a half years, I finally wrapped up the B.S.
So, what did I want to be when I grew up? Still didn't know.
Through about 99% of my college career I worked on campus in the library. The last library where I worked closed for a time due to flood damage. To help me maintain some income, I was very graciously given the job of working at an information booth to assist new students on campus. For as short a time as I spent doing that, I loved it.
Ahem. Did you hear that, me from nine years ago? Sought out and worked jobs at libraries. Loved work that involved helping people find information.
Despite what may seem to be whopper clues, my next venture was in Maine as a VISTA volunteer. The organization I worked with was a lemon. What was intended to be an organization led by a council of volunteers with input from members of surrounding communities was instead one little man doing what he wanted with input from himself with results to no one's benefit. I was there about 2-3 months.
Highlights from 24:
I went to a friend's wedding in MN and the best man caught my eye. We'd graduated high school together, but had never really talked much. We started writing to each other, using pen and paper for the most part. (Crazy, I know.) An extremely funny, intelligent, and, yes, nice looking man, but long distance relationships never last...and I still had miles to go.
I worked with two wonderful women at the library in Colorado, Sensible Karin and Spit-fire Betty—both were between 30 and 40 years or so older than me. They were complete opposites, but got along so well and were a blast to work with. Part of an exchange I still recall between them:
Karin: Well, curiosity killed the cat, you know.
Betty: Huh. Satisfaction brought him back.
Karin, Betty, and I went for a day trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. Karin was determined to get me there at least once before I left the state. It was absolutely breathtaking, and I couldn't have asked for better company.
That short stint in Maine? Happened during the most beautiful time of the year: late summer and early fall. Long enough to be invited to a cabin by a coworker for a lazy Labor Day: floating blissfully on a lake, later a lobster feed at her trailer (relatives were lobster fishermen), then a live performance by her heavy metal, teenage sons. Kick ass. Also, long enough to see the landscape turn neon as the leaves changed. I got out before any crazy ice storms. I was also flat broke from the move, but hey. The price of taking a chance.