When you are eighteen, fresh out of high school you think you have everything planned out. Or you have nothing planned out and can’t wait to start making plans. Well, I was the one that thought I knew everything. I was going to get my degree in English, become a writer, writing amazing bestseller books or become an editor for a publishing company or newspaper. Oh, if only I could meet eighteen-year-old me. I would laugh right in her face a shake her out of her stupidity.