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That terrible feeling you get when you completely disagree with somebody's actions, but for some reason or another you can't let them know about your feelings on the topic, eventually you end up helping them because they can't do it without you, and at the end of it all they thank you for everything you've done and you feel sick.

I think the word for this one might be regret, but that seems far too vague.

I think sometimes that I'm in the wrong major. I have a lot of hobbies and interests that I enjoy doing, and I could turn them into legit jobs if I wanted to. It would be an absolute dream to go to school and study material sciences, and then go on to become a prop maker for big-budget Hollywood movies. I would thoroughly enjoy studying anatomy and art, and becoming an illustrator for medical books and diagrams and whatnot. How neat would it be to study psychology in school, and then become an expert on the subconscious mind and dreams? I could become a novelist, or a computer programmer, or even a musician.

But I treat all of these things as hobbies. I can always make things in my spare time. I draw whenever I feel like it. I dream every night. I can write, code, or play music any day of the week.

So why don't I feel like it's worth my time to make any of these things more than a hobby? I've picked a major that is pretty much none of these things. My major is something I would never do in my free time. I mean, I find what I'm studying to be interesting. But wouldn't it make more sense to study something I have a passion in? Something that I'll take home and work on, whether or not it's been assigned? I'd like to rewind a few years and pick a school better suited to my tastes. I thought I knew what I wanted, but it seems I've changed my mind.

Granted, though, I'm a terrible musician. I don't think I could actually turn that one into a job.