It’s Christmas! You’re back in your hometown for a few weeks, the longest you’ve been home in months. If you live anywhere like me, meaning a small town, then you’re probably experiencing the same phenomenon as me. Everywhere you look, everywhere you go, you see someone you know (because you know everyone, and everyone knows you). You make that fatal eye contact in the grocery store with your mother’s best friend’s cousin and you know you just doomed yourself to a ten-minute conversation about your entire life plan and career goals.
Now, this is a very nice thing! The people who know you care about what you are doing, or rather what you are planning on doing, and that is something I really can appreciate.
However, there’s one kicker: I can’t answer those questions.
Not because I’m in a rush to head to a Christmas party and I really only needed to grab some chips and salsa on my way, and not because I’m a stubborn irritable teenager who is incapable of speaking to adults, but because I literally can’t answer those questions. Well, OK. I can answer them, but just not in the way anyone wants me to answer them, including myself.
“What’s your major?”
I don’t have one.
“Do you know what you want to do?”
“Do you have any majors in mind?”
“Have you thought about graduate school?”
Do I really need to answer that one?
My entire life is one big blob of uncertainty at the moment, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I go blank when someone asks me what I want for Christmas, let alone what I want to do with the rest of my life.
But, I know I’ll figure it out because I go to one of the best universities in the nation, a place with limitless resources and possibilities. So, no. I’m not really concerned that I don’t have a plan yet. You shouldn’t be either. And until the day comes that you do figure it all out, smile and tell your mother’s best friend’s cousin that you’re working on it.
images from giphy.com