The essence of a holiday

You know you're stressed when you wish for a holiday whilst on holiday. It's as if the beginning of these holidays were the beginning of a different sort of dread. My workload is ongoing- I see no end. My parents are still nagging me to go to med school, insisting that since I don't know what I really want to be, I might as well be a doctor. Last night, Dad finally considered the possibility that I might fail my med school entrance exams. He then recommended a double degree in law and accounting.

...This expression suits me^

Is it strange to take interest into account, when it comes to deciding a career path? There must be some sort of repercussion, going into a job you like only marginally better than being homeless. It's strange to think of my future so bleakly, when I could technically be anything I want. I have so many opportunities, so many skills... I'm good at whatever I do- a talent that is enough to make me the subject of envy of many others. Perhaps it is because I could achieve almost anything... that I am indecisive. 

Maybe if I had a bit of time to myself, I'll sort it all out. I know that's wishful thinking. Mum and Dad haven't left me alone since the holiday started. I remember how I used to long for weekends- now I hate weekends. "Holidays" are worse than school days. At least at school there are people who make me happy- being trapped at home with my parents is just pure suffering. 

Going out seems to be the obvious solution, but after my parents' reaction to me having a little fun around the time of my own birthday... I have no wish of going anywhere. 

Hmm... If I could be anywhere in the world right now... I'd like to be somewhere in the northern hemisphere, near a beach. I could sip a glass of cool fruit juice while resting beneath a palm tree, reading a novel I've never had the time to read. That would be a holiday.