4th
Fear of Commitment
Silly as it seems, for a brief moment in time after watching House (one of the four television series I’ve ever watched), I wanted to be a doctor. I think this has more to do with my current inner job turmoil than any love for the medicinal persuasion. As elegant as I find organic chemistry, I can’t imagine making a career out of it.
I was attracted to the MD not (primarily) out of prestige, money, glamor, working hours, or opportunities for recreational drug abuse. Far more simple fact: after committing yourself to medicine, your life is mostly determined. There are only so many specialties and hospitals to choose from: the parameters are already set. It’s mostly a matter of distinguishing yourself within those bounds.
In contrast, right now I need to pick which game to play. I worked hard to keep my options open and I wonder if that was a mistake. I committed myself to not committing and giving that up seems like defeat. That’s why I’m having such a hard time settling on a job. I’m worried that I’m locking myself (even if only partially, and even if only for a couple of years) into a career.
The reason why this is particularly grating is that I work best (and am least stressed) when I am hyper-focused on one problem. If I could just man-up and pick a damn profession, life would be easier and my risk for coronary heart disease would probably drop five-fold.
Unfortunately I’m curious. For me, curiosity trumps easy any day. And so I’m stuck. Curiosity might not have killed the cat directly: might’ve just starved it to death.
