My Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I know my letter comes a little early (or later than it used to considering I haven't written you since I was nine), but it snowed here yesterday and in Edmonton, that's an admission that Christmas is here.

You'll probably crumple up my letter now, because I'm 25 years old and haven't yet asked about Rudolph or Mrs. Claus. (How are they by the way? I do care, really). The only thing I want from you is just a few moments to read my letter.

I'm 25 and I'm aware that you "exist" in the hearts of children and as the great, kind spirit of giving and love, so even though this service is for a lot of little ones hoping for Barbies and Transformers (not unlike when I was a kid), I still think you have a good message to share.

I wasn't really having the most satisfactory year, like a lot of other folks. All this past year, I've been torn in my professional life as I watch others forced to make tough choices or jump bravely into new challenges. I've been conflicted with three choices:

-Do I stay at a workplace that I'm not particularly fond of and makes me feel trapped with fear of not finding another job in this pitiful economy?

-Do I head back to school for a program I only like (not love) to throw myself back into debt, part-time jobs and my parents' basement?

-Do I march out of my comfort zone, whereby I exchange financial security yet corporate toe-lining for creative freedom yet instability?

Santa, I just don't want to play another year of "what do I do?" High school and college were all about "accomplish these things in this amount of time." Now I'm flying without a plan. And I'm a person who needs a plan. My wish this Christmas is for a clear path. What do you advise I do?

Yours,
Girl on the Corner (all she wants for Christmas is the man with a plan)