As the fourth and final year of college gets underway, topics of conversations take a daunting turn. If our future plans and endeavors weren’t already mentioned by our professors every day or ringing in our ears by our concerned-about-where-their-tuition-money-went parents enough, we can’t find an escape even in the going-out scene.
Nice, friendly boy: “So, what are your plans after college?”
Me: “Nope.”
Take me out to dinner before you hit me with an interrogation of my personal future? Sorry, I left my USB drive with twenty personalized slides of what my successful future looks like back at home. If I get flashbacks of the holidays when my relatives fixate on my current relationship status during this conversation it probably isn’t going anywhere. Maybe they are simply breaking the ice, but my impression is as if they want a copy of my financial statements, a framed certificate of my degree, and my five-year plan. Whatever buzz I had, gone. Those conversations are ones I often wish to avoid.
The pressure to be convicted by what you want to do with the rest of your life is often crammed into four years at a place where you’re also supposed to find the love of your life, have six internships, get involved in everything on and off campus, create an app, and learn another language. If you’re not walking on water by the end of it, well, your time here must’ve been wasted. My major holds no precedence over the jobs and opportunities my future may hold. Rash decisions, uneducated guesses, and plenty of mistakes are still a fact of life post-graduation, I assume. There’s no rush to fulfill every step you imagined will reach success for your life, and, frankly, having it all together seems pretty boring especially while still in your twenty’s. All I’m asking here is a little less debriefing of how I plan to utilize my major and a little more creativity and lightheartedness in the bar conversations.