when i grow up...wait, that already happened

I like to think that I have a plan for my life. We've been constantly working our butts off for our "future" for as long as I can remember. What made us so motivated to do well in first grade? We weren't exactly vying for enrollment at our favorite colleges yet, although I was certain I would attend Penn State and wear Burkenstocks. What do you want to be when you grow up? I can't help but miss those days where the answer to such a question had 5 possible choices: doctor, teacher, vet, astronaut, firefighter. I like animals, so I want to be a vet. Ok great, yea, those cartoon pictures you see as a child representing various occupations make it all look so lovely! The vet has a clean white lab coat on, maybe a stethoscope, and one of those shiny round mirrors on his head. He's most likely wearing glasses and a smile while surrounded by fluffy kittys, dogs, and a parrot. Awwww! My dream! But take heed! These pictures tend to leave out the part of the job that turned me off of the veterinary profession for life. I was at horseback riding camp when a horse got sick. In came the vet and I watched in horror as this man stuck his entire arm up to his shoulder into the horses butt, all before my disillusioned 4th grade eyes. Cross THAT one off the list...along with horseback riding for that matter. Firefighter equipment weighs more than I do. I'm deathly afraid of heights, so that endangers my career as astronaut. I tried my hand at teaching preschoolers, and was 2 poopy diapers and a temper tantrum away from the looney bin when I quit. I often throw up at the sight of blood and therefore could never be a doctor--no matter how tempting McDreamy makes it look. So now I sit here, college almost halfway over, wondering about my options.

I have a long fancy title I am aiming for here at CLU--major in Communication with an emphasis in Public Relations/Advertising with a minor in French. But what does that even mean to ME? I found out the other day in my public relations class (my soon to be PROFESSION?!) that PR has two "founding fathers". The first later went on to work for Hitler, while the second began a campaign in 1929 that while once taboo, made it sexy for women to smoke. You could practically say that PR founders ran the Holocaust and gave millions lung cancer. Criminals practically! Is this what I really want? I've taken all my strengths and gathered them into a major and minor, and I'm plowing ahead like there's no tomorrow, but all the while I'm worried. I do NOT condone murderous dictatorship, so maybe that horse's butt isn't looking so bad after all...