Crayola dreams and contract nights

In the spring of my junior year of High School I took an advanced art class that I loved.  My teacher was lovely and at the end of the semester encouraged me to apply to art school.  "RISD!" she exclaimed.  "Or Parsons!"

"Hmm, I like art," I remember thinking to myself, "but I should really go to college and have some sort of profession... I can always do art on the side..."

Fast forward eleven years into the future.  Scene:  bleary eyed Barbri student hunched over flashcards on a Saturday evening, drawing pictures of various forms of incapacitated persons in order to remember contract law; using colored markers to label outlines and getting way too much satisfaction out of color-coding with washable markers.  Art is so nice.  So pretty.  Where oh where did I go wrong?

Regrets:  I haz em