Notion
"Hi Spencer," Carly said as her, Freddie and Sam let themselves into the Shay's apartment.
"Shh!" Spencer hissed from the couch, where he was laying down.
"What's wrong?" Carly frowned.
"I'm trying to nap!" Spencer snapped. "I had a long day!"
"A long day of what? Eating cereal in your pajamas and watching cartoons?" Sam scoffed.
"No!" Spencer defended. "I cleaned the kitchen, thank you very much!"
"Er, it doesn't look very clean," Carly frowned, looking over into the kitchen, where there was still a full sink of dishes and various plates and utensils strewn about the counters.
"I'm gonna get back to it!"
"You know, if you want an easy way to get your kitchen clean, just ask my mom to come over and do it," Freddie said. "She lives for this sort of stuff. Course she might throw out all your un-organic food while she's at it…"
"Um, I think I'll pass," Spencer said, slowly sitting up.
"Hey, how much do we have left to record for iCarly tomorrow?" Sam asked, helping herself to a large bag of potato chips from the kitchen.
"Just the Idiot Farm Girl bit," Carly said. "Right, Freddie?"
"Right," Freddie nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket and staring down at the screen. "We just need to-Oh! The test results! They're up!"
"Oh my God, are you serious?" Carly gasped as her and Freddie rushed over to the computer.
"How do you know?" Sam frowned.
"A friend of mine from the AV club just texted me," Freddie said.
"Ha," Sam scoffed, shoving another handful of chips into her mouth. "Like you have other friends."
"Hold on, what test are you guys talking about?" Spencer asked.
"Today at school all the seniors took a career aptitude test," Carly explained as she typed away on the computer. "To help us figure out what we want to do with our lives."
"Oh, I took one of those in high school too," Spencer said.
"What career did you get?" Freddie asked.
"A lawyer," Spencer said. "My dad still has those results framed somewhere…"
"You still haven't told him you dropped out of law school?" Sam asked.
"Eh, he'll figure it out eventually," Spencer said.
"Well, I can't wait to see what results I got," Carly said. "I'm a little worried, though. I just hope-oh! This is great!"
"What'd you get, kid?" Sam asked.
"I got a fashion designer!" Carly beamed. "Isn't that amazing? That's my dream career, and apparently I'm perfect for it!"
"Nice!" Spencer said, high fiving his little sister. "Hey, maybe if you become a super successful designer, dad won't be so mad about me!"
"Hey, can I take a look at my results?" Freddie asked.
"Sure," Carly nodded, moving away from the computer. "I bet you get a career with computers or something. Hey, maybe you'll get a software designer!"
"That'd be pretty cool," Freddie grinned. "I've always wanted to do something like that. Or maybe I'll get something with film editing or-huh? This-this can't be right?"
"What's it say?" Sam asked.
"Apparently the career that's the best fit for me is a…dog groomer," Freddie frowned.
"Ha!" Sam laughed.
"I don't understand, I don't even like animals that much!" Freddie said.
"Well…dog grooming could be fun," Carly reasoned, trying to be supportive. "Maybe you could be a big shoot groomer and work with celebrities dogs or something."
"Or you can get a dog that pees on you," Sam added brightly.
"I don't believe this, I thought I scored really high on all the logic parts of the test!" Freddie moaned. "How could my career be a dog groomer?"
"Come on, it's not that bad," Carly said. "Hey Sam, why don't you look at your results?"
"Fine," Sam shrugged, moving towards the computer. "Even though I'm pretty sure I know what I got. My career is obviously going to be a cage fighter."
"A cage fighter?" Freddie repeated. "Is that even an option?"
"Duh, why wouldn't it be?" Sam said. "It's a great job. All you do is beat the crud out of everybody and-hey! This can't be right!"
"What's it say?" Carly asked.
"The career that's the best fit for me is a…parole officer!"
"Wow…talk about ironic," Freddie chuckled, earning him a stern glare from Sam.
"You don't want to be a parole officer?" Spencer asked.
"No I don't want to be a parole officer!" Sam snapped. "Those guys have the worst jobs ever! They just sit around and narc on people! They don't anything cool either; they just sit at a desk all day!"
"Still probably better than being a dog groomer," Freddie mumbled. "At least you get to deal with people."
"Oh, cheer up, you two," Carly said.
"Easy for you to say; you actually got a career that wouldn't make you miserable!" Sam snapped. "You'd be just as wazzed off as us if you got something like a-a-like a gas station attendant!"
"Hey, that sounds like it could be sort of fun," Spencer said. "You'd get to work in one of those cool mini marts and get tons of free candy!"
"Ugh, see? Literally any job would've been cooler than what I go!" Sam moaned.
"Same here!" Freddie fumed.
"Guys, come on, it's not like you have to listen to those results," Spencer said. "I didn't and look at me!"
Sam and Freddie exchanged glances.
"We're doomed," Sam said, shaking her head.
"You said it," Freddie sighed.
…..
"Come on…" Freddie muttered to himself later that evening as he sat alone in the iCarly studio, typing away at him laptop. "There has to be something I can do…"
"What are you doing?"
Freddie turned around and saw Sam walk into the studio.
"Oh, hey," he said. "I was just-nothing. I-I'm doing nothing."
"Are those your results from the career aptitude test?" Sam asked, looking at his screen.
Freddie sighed. "Okay, fine. They are. I-I'm trying to hack the system to give myself better results. But it's harder than I thought…Or maybe my computer skills aren't what I thought they were, and that's why my perfect career is dog grooming."
"Well if you figure it out, do me a favor and change my results too," Sam said, sitting down on the beanbag chair next to him. "Parole officer…what were they thinking?"
"Everybody else seems to be real happy with their results," Freddie said heavily. "Gibby's results told him he'd be a spa specialist, Brad's told him he'd be a special effects editor…you know that kid who's always sick, Jeremy? Well apparently he's gonna be a doctor!"
"Unbelievable," Sam mumbled.
"Tell me about it," Freddie said, closing his laptop. He glanced over at Sam. "Although…these results aren't exactly set in stone, you know. We don't have to listen to them."
"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "But I thought they were supposed to help us figure out what we wanted to do with our lives once we got out of school. I was kind of hoping I'd get a job that seemed so perfect for me that I'd actually know what to do with my life. But since there's no way I'm going to be a parole officer like that stupid test said, I'm just as lost as before."
"That would be nice, I guess," Freddie sighed, leaning back in his seat. "To have the ideal career path laid out in front of you like that. I was kind of looking forward to that too. It would've been easier…now I'm just confused about what the heck I'm supposed to be doing."
"I thought you knew what you wanted to do, though," Sam frowned. "Stuff with computers, right?"
"Well, yeah, but there's so many different things to do with computers," Freddie chuckled. "Software design, engineering, app creation…and then there are times where-where I kind of think about doing something completely different. Maybe directing or something like that. That'd be fun. I was thinking the test would help me narrow things down but…"
"Hey, at least you have ideas of what you want to do," Sam said. "I have nothing."
"I'm sure you have ideas," Freddie said helpfully. "You said you wanted to be a cage fighter earlier so…there's that."
"Eh, I wasn't being serious," Sam smiled. "I actually wouldn't want to do that. Do you know how many weeks out of the year those fighters spend in the hospital? Apparently their doctor bills are terrifying."
"Probably," Freddie nodded. "Well…hey, you're pretty good at all the creative stuff we do for iCarly. Maybe you can do something with that. Have you ever thought about being a professional script writer? Like for a T.V. show?"
"No…" Sam said thoughtfully. "I haven't…you'd think I'd be good at that?"
"Sure, all our fans love the stuff you write on the web show," Freddie nodded. "That piece you came up with last week about the governor and the Panini press was hilarious."
"It was, wasn't it?" Sam grinned. "Huh…maybe I can see myself doing something like that."
"It's just a thought," Freddie said. "You don't have to do it but…it's not like you don't have options, you know. You don't have to become a parole officer if you don't want to."
Sam showed a small smile. "And you don't have to become a dog groomer either…you'd actually probably be pretty terrible at it. Dogs would hate you."
Freddie laughed.
"So when do you think we'll know for sure?" Sam asked. "When do you think we'll finally figure out what we want to do with our lives?"
"I don't know," Freddie answered honestly. "But I'm sure we will…one day."
