Kimberly Vinci Mrs. S Creative Writing Point of Departure October 26th, 2005 ( forever ) The American Dream At the age of seventeen, I am far from being a “Doctor of Journalism” as Hunter S. Thompson undoubtedly is, but every waking hour of my life is spent searching for the American Dream. The dream is to be happy and everything I do adds to my happiness. I had been searching for the American Dream only to realize I’ve found it. I was told, “Take a left at the light. Go to high school, graduate, make a right off White Street, go to college and get a good job… MAKE SOMETHING OF YOURSELF.” I plan to. The dream is a journey, which is never ending. It is a search for a better life: good fortune and happiness, something we can never get enough of. Deep green trees, a cloudless blue sky, the strum of a guitar. Life is beautiful. These are the days that I live for. Wake up to the alarm playing my favorite song- perfection. The dark morning sky is never depressing, except for being a sign that I’m on my way to work. Working everyday helps me appreciate the little things in life. Work, a noun, is described as a physical or mental effort or activity directed toward the production or accomplishment of something. My journey to the heart of the American Dream passes through places of “work” daily. To have a place of purpose, proof of my ambition. I sit in the uncomfortable stool, hands and arms covered in Dr. Mike’s famous “Rich Chocolate Ice Cream”. I hate it, the customers are assholes, but I can’t be mean. Today, I’ve washed the cracked and stained floor twice. I have scrubbed two days worth of dishes: buckets covered in drippy, sticky ice cream and pumpkin and butterscotch sauces. Sure, I hate cleaning, but at a job where I can eat endless ice cream for eight dollars and hour? I love to hate it. As I open my paycheck, I love it even more. Sunday morning is my favorite. At twelve o’clock I can be found in Ridgefield venting about my work filled week, a cup of coffee and a cigarette and then whoever wants to can come over for brunch. The American Dream: we bring each other happiness. I would be lost without my comforting Sunday scrabble games with my best friend. It gives us structure, a schedule; Sunday wouldn’t be the same without it. When we’ve spent too many hours draining our heads of words, it’s time to get together with more great people at West Conn. Sunday night is just as great as Sunday morning. We’re all together for an hour, no matter the weather like the post office. Followed by our usual trip to Starbucks or the Diner. The American Dream: having something to always look forward to. I know my Sunday will never change. Work, stress, school. Love it. This is life. The good can’t be appreciated without the work. The work is the American Dream, along with the happiness and Sundays.