Psychology

So somewhere along the way I picked up an interest in psychology. I think it was in high school, because I remember being somewhat interested in the human brain and its structure, and how that influenced behavior. I remember wanting to go into the marketing department of a company, and I wanted to be the marketing director who managed to sell everything and bring in shit-tonnes of profit, because I knew what peopled wanted or something like that. The ghosts of that thought followed me for a while, until I took the statistics class in college and decided that I hated stats. That was when marketing only became a dream for an alternate reality.

Then I thought I'd be a psychologist, because hey, at least I'm still interested. I started taking psychology classes, and I was interested enough to make it through a major. Of course I slowly became disillusioned regarding the true nature of psychology- there was no text-book definition describing a certain behavior--- it could be a range of things. For example, you could walk down the street and have some guy give you the finger. Maybe he has the compulsion to stick his finger when people walk by; maybe he has nerve damage and his finger is permanently like that; maybe in his culture it's a way of saying hello--- or maybe he's just a fucking dick. 

Anyway, I was kind of disappointed that psychology didn't let me read people's minds. I really should have studied witchcraft instead of going to school. Dammit.

Right now my plan in the future is to become a psychiatrist. I'm still keeping my interest alive, in my own way. I kind of winced when I realized it takes more than a decade to become a fully qualified psychiatrist... It feels kind of wrong to take so long to do what you want to do... and it all feels so...convoluted. Kinda like when you catch a bus to go home, but it decides to go around every other suburb in the surrounding area before it stops at your house. Or worse, your friend tells you to catch the bus with him and the bus takes you to his stop but not yours, and you have to take a half hour walk to get home (I have some pretty faggoty friends).

Ah, I digress. I should stop with the shitty analogies that stop making sense because I get distracted and forget my original intention in writing. I just thought I'd write about why I decided to take a major in psychology, even though I didn't do any work for it and showed up late to half the classes.