All I gottasay is, life better be a box of chocolates.

In other words, if, in tenyears, I turn out to be an advertising executive in a failing firm with four kidsand an angry wife whom I do not like and I still live in the same area, then I'mtakin' the car out for a drive and never coming back. I feel so strongly aboutthis that instead of having nightmares about falling from a 20-story building, Iwake up screaming still tasting the stale coffee I was drinking in my littlecubicle, identical to every other little cubicle and the pathetic fop who residesin the other cube of waste and decay.

Okay, okay, maybe I have seen"Fight Club" way too many times. And, yes, my father did work in afailing advertising firm, and, yes, there are some pretty cool people who residein tiny cubicles all across the nation. I, for one, however, have decided that Iwill not be one of them. I need change. I need a little variety. I need achocolate-covered cherry every once in a while.

Now, I understand thatwith this sort of lifestyle there are certain risks that come with the territory.Like those chocolates with the orange paste in them that tastes like, well,orange paste. I think it was Bo Jackson who said, "The more crushing thedefeat, the sweeter the victory." Wait, no, he didn't say that. But whoeversaid it is irrelevant. The fact is that it's true. If it takes years ofunemployment until I become a software mogul or business tycoon, I can hack it.That way I can be King of the Cubicle People, rub my hands while looking down onthem, and mutter over and over, "Excellent!"

But this isgetting off the point. The fact is, I have no idea what is in store for me in thefuture. At this point in my life, I'm thinking about as far ahead as thisweekend, and not a day later. All I can do is hope that I can graduate fromcollege with a degree in something ... anything. And my only wish is that I comeacross as little orange paste as possible.