October 1999 - High school dropout.

2002 - Volunteered at an art show (a few weeks in length), where my entire job c
onsisted of telling people not to touch the art.
2003, 2004 - Vaguely look for work. Work two weeks at my father's office answer
ing phones so I have something to put on my resume.
January 2004 - Take the Medical Office course listed on my resume.
Summer 2004 - Get the "Receptionist" job listed on my resume, working at a heari
ng aid clinic. Technically a medical office assistant, maybe I should say that.
November 2004 - Get my GED.
Fall 2004 - Take a 5-week bartending course. Do nothing with it.
December 2004 - Car accident, spend some months laying around in pain.
2005 - Still doing vacation relief at hearing aid clinic.
Summer 2005 - Take some job-skills courses offered by the government, including
conflict resolution, Food Safe again, resume writing workshop, and all kinds of
other stuff I don't recall.
Summer 2005 - Get a job making pizza. Quit after 3 weeks. Vaguely look for wor
k.
September 2005 - Get temp work due to the busy season, where my job is to grab a
n order, unpack all the crap in that order from other boxes, and stuff the new b
ox with newspaper so nothing shifts around and breaks. I forget the company nam
e, but they are no longer in business. Listed on my resume as Packer, and I've
listed the name of one of their product lines as the company name, but Google tu
rns up nothing either way.
Fall 2005 - Go to college for a semester (night classes), but attendance suffers
due to panic attacks. Drop out.
Spring 2006 - Start a 5-week Shiatsu course. End up in the emergency room halfw
ay through and have my gall bladder removed. Drop out because I can't finish.
Summer 2006, all of 2007 - Spend 2 days out of 3 vomitting all day. Later told
I have some rare thing where removing my gall bladder is bad. Don't work or go
to school because of vomit.
2008 - My illness lessens, then magically disappears. Looking for work and goin
g on interviews is hindered by panic attacks.
June 2008 - I spend the month at my father's, out of town. He's a small-town ph
otographer. I carry shit around for him and set lights up and whatnot. This is
the "Photographer's Assistant" on my resume, and I don't feel that's a lie.
September 2008 - Art school on my father's dime, 8 months.
October 2008 - I start seeing a counsellor, and am diagnosed with Social Anxiety
Disorder and PTSD. I don't really like her, so I see her just long enough to n
ot drop out from panic attacks again.
January 2009 - Night class at college. Bomb it.
March 2009 - Different counsellor, great progress is made on Social Anxiety Diso
rder.
June 2009 - Break my foot, spend the Summer doing nothing.
September 2009 - Different private art school, 9 out of 12 months of a Photograp
hy program. My dad pays half, but surprises me about not paying the other half.
I continue taking one evening course at college each semester, and do great, w
hich is a nice change.
2009, 2010 - Insomnia rapes me, but my counsellor always talks me out of droppin
g out.
Spring 2010 - Start seeing a Psychologist (taking a break from my counsellor) in
the hopes of some goddamn sleep drugs or something. Turns out he's a Psychoana
lyst. No fucking help at all.
May 2010 - Another car accident. I lie around in a drug-filled haze. I send th
e Photography school a single e-mail saying I was in a car accident and I won't
be in. Panic attacks and more PTSD keep me from further correspondance with the
m. I stop seeing the Psychoanalyst, because he is just no help at all.
July 2010 - Find a university I want to go to because I decide my body is just b
roken forever, and I will therefore never be able to support myself as a Photogr
apher or artist of any kind. Maybe one of those guys that paints with his mouth
or something.
July 2010 - I move back home, fucking hell.
July 2010 - I get in at my counsellor's again, and we start reigning in my panic
attacks and PTSD. Fucking Psychoanalyst, I can't believe how useless he was.
September 2010 - I start full-time at college, because it's too late to apply fo
r my chosen university, and I'm not going to sit around doing fucking nothing (f
or once). My Physiotherapist and counsellor are both confident in my ability to
work after my accident (and other fun troubles), regardless of what I think.