Ok, in my last post I confessed to running away with the circus. I lied. (Get over it. It's going to happen a lot.) I'm not joining the circus; I'm trying to join the Peace Corps. Although sometimes, they don't feel much different. Both involve a lot of shit, and putting yourself in stupid situations like stuffing your face into a lion's mouth, and being in the circus.
There are a lot of steps to get into the Peace Corps and lets remember it's run by the same people that thought a legal drinking age was a good idea. In short, it's not the smoothest process. Well today, I'm declining an offer to a very good job in order to pursue an uncertain opportunity where I live in poverty for 2 years, in some forgotten corner of the universe. I never said I had an above 100 IQ.
Yet, here I am. I wanted to make a bad decision bigger than my weekly Yeager fueled antics, and this might just qualify. I already don't have the support of my family and mentors, which is a great indicator that it's the best choice I could possibly make.
What I look forward most to in my Peace Corps service is not helping people, or feeling fulfilled, but rather the great shit I'll have to complain about on this blog. This whole depressed bourgeois thing is getting really fucking old.