I swear I tried to be brief:
I'm 28 years old. Called to the bar last year.
Well provided for by my family. I own a big condo and pay the mortgage. I drive a nice car gifted by my father. I am 85% independent.
I am relatively spoiled but extremely grateful. I haven't had to try very hard (intellectually, etc.) to get to where I am at and have no debt.
For the last year and a half (articles + work), I have worked full time in my chosen field in the law. I earn a decent salary and have garnered a sound reputation. Though, admittedly, I do not sweat for my work.
Recently I also cut back my full-time hours in order to teach at a community college part-time. The opportunity came up and I wanted to get my foot in that door.
Everybody knows I have lots of time on my hands - free evenings, free weekends, etc. I also accept that I could be doing far, far more with my degree and career. I could be writing for journals, starting my own practise, making inroads, etc. but I haven't. Other people don't do these things and get by just fine, but somehow I expect them of myself.
My problem is that I still consider myself an artist at heart. I have loved music more than anything throughout my life and it shows in my possessions, attitudes and hobbies. I own more instruments and records and recording equipment than any other possession, and consider that I have enough material under my belt to call myself a decent songwriter and producer. In the briefest of terms, my dream job is to become a conductor or professional musician/composer - but to date I have not had the courage to derail my career in order to do so.
Meanwhile, I "float". And my parents, and girlfriend and everybody who knows me notices.
I've told everyone I want to save my money and take this summer "off" completely. Ride my fucking bike; write some fucking poetry at a coffee shop; and sit down with my fucking guitar and a microphone.
Is that so wrong? Or is everybody else so right?
Am I a useless floater who should be making more out of his degree (because that's what good people in my shoes do)? Or should people stop breathing down my neck and let me explore my love for other things - at least for a time goddammit?!
What is the damned rush anyway?