I'm five years old, it's getting cold, I've got my big coat on
I hear your laugh and look up smiling at you, I run and run
Past the pumpkin patch and the tractor rides, look now, the sky is gold
I hug your legs and fall asleep on the way home

I don't know why all the trees change in the fall
But I know you're not scared of anything at all
Don't know if Snow White's house is near or far away
But I know I had the best day with you today

I'm thirteen now and don't know how my friends could be so mean
I come home crying and you hold me tight and grab the keys
And we drive and drive until we found a town far enough away
And we talk and window shop 'til I've forgotten all their names

I don't know who I'm gonna talk to now at school
But I know I'm laughing on the car ride home with you
Don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay
But I know I had the best day with you today

I have an excellent father, his strength is making me stronger
God smiles on my little brother, inside and out, he's better than I am
I grew up in a pretty house and I had space to run
And I had the best days with you

There is a video I found from back when I was three
You set up a paint set in the kitchen and you're talking to me
It's the age of princesses and pirate ships and the seven dwarfs
And Daddy's smart and you're the prettiest lady in the whole wide world

And now I know why the all the trees change in the fall
I know you were on my side even when I was wrong
And I love you for giving me your eyes
For staying back and watching me shine
And I didn't know if you knew, so I'm takin' this chance to say
That I had the best day with you today

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4e9PXUtjRb0

"The most satisfying thing is putting one word in front of another. It's a lovely way to spend your day...and also the most agonizing."
-Joe Klein, TIME columnist and journalist

I was sitting in Prof. McHam’s 4PM communication class, observing my classmates jump on issue after issue, I felt at peace. Like I belong. This is where I want to be.

Yesterday afternoon, I gave a presentation in my human resources management class. The project taught me how much I enjoy the research and writing process, but in addition to my mediocre presentation skills, I have no desire to bring this to a group of people who, as far as I can tell, are not really listening. I realized my strength lies not in large lecture groups, but with interpersonal connections. I have no idea why I dreamed of being a professor.

Yesterday evening, I attended an IABC (International Association for Business Communicators), and I realized I have an interest in internal communications. Earlier that day, I interviewed the director of the School of Theatre on the return of Edward Albee, and I felt confident in my ability to handle the story. I did my research, I was prepared, and I had a great time talking about a subject I knew quite a bit about.

Last night, I attended a CEO Elevator Pitch event to cover the competition. I was nervous at first and unsure of my ability to handle the story. The officers of the organization made sure I have enough information to write my article. They were gracious and helpful, and as I listened to them and took notes, there was a sense of pride and confidence that I can make this article happen. That anything is possible.

Today, I walked into McHam’s class and met up with my professor as we both walked in the door. He said hello. I replied I was on time and smiled. I had taken his class a year ago. A year ago, I told him and the class a great story and gave them memorable quotes on how I felt when I first came to Houston. He wrote my recommendation so I could have a shot at an internship with the Houston Astros. A year later, after two HR internships, and six weeks into the class, I avoided any conversation with the professor and my classmates. But today, I smiled and talked and conversed. And it felt great.

As I look out into my class, wide awake and alert, I feel like I am finding my way. Life seems to make my journey into HR easy and clear, but sometimes life leads you down a certain road only to lead you down a different one. Maybe a harder one, but a more rewarding one.

I signed up for this class and the Daily Cougar last semester for mandatory reasons, but I also knew there was something I needed to learn from all of this. As I saw four of my stories printed in the last couple of weeks and attending events I never thought I would go, I felt self-assured that I can take on anything life throws at me. I know I am becoming a stronger person, a better person.  The person I have always dreamed of being.

I thought I would enjoy human resources, but I find myself counting down the minutes and hours until I can leave. I find myself waking up and dread going to work. I am attracted to journalism and communication workshops instead of HR seminars. I idolize those in the communication fields versus those in HR management. I got good reviews from my superiors for my HR work, but it didn’t feel that rewarding to me. Getting praised for making over 100 phone calls a week in two days for eight hours is hardly what I call an achievement.

I want creativity. I want writing. I want to be excited about my work. And I want to feel that my work matters. When I write something, whether it is research or an article or a blog, I feel that I am doing good work, even if it is not a good job, even if no one sees it. Seeing my name in the paper and knowing my writing skills are getting better with each article is a bigger sense of pride for me than any recruiting quota I can ever accomplish. It gives me a higher rush than any power I can have in a corporation.

I love writing. I never doubted that, but I once said that if writing gets in the way of my happiness, relationships or family, I would gladly give it up. In theory, that holds true. But now I understand that writing is a part of who I am, whether I write for the public or for personal purposes. I cannot be a peaceful and happy person if I put that part of me away. A lot of things have happened in the last two years, but so many things have happened this week, and it awakened me to the reality that although I am not an author or a reporter, I am a writer. I am fascinated by good stories and how they are put on paper, and how I can present those stories to an audience, whether it is to my peers or to my children someday.

Everyone has their dreams. I have dreamed of many things. Most of them never came true. I always believed that it was because I didn’t care about them enough. And yet, I have always written. I wrote for as long as I can remember, and when I go for periods of time without the written word, I am like a lamb forced into the forest she is not comfortable with. Some people are natural great writers, but that doesn’t mean they love to write. I love to write. It is my passion. And no matter where I go, the desire to write haunts me until I put it on paper.

Have you found your passion? I have found mine. And it is universal.