I don’t know if you guys noticed, but college is kind of a big deal.
When you’re a college student, people take your future very, very seriously.
It seems as though all of the conversations I have had this summer revolve around my future and what I intend to do with it.
Last night we went to my aunt’s house to celebrate my grandfather’s birthday, and while the conversation was picking up—I think we were laughing at something my 1-year –old cousin did with the neighborhood cat—my uncle decided that it was the perfect time to ask me about College Life and my capital-F Future. Laughing stops, people lean forward in their lawn chairs, crickets cease to merrily chirp. Scratch that record, ladies and gentlemen, because s*** is about to go down.
“You still planning on being an English major?”
Oh, no, of course not. I meant to tell you—I just submitted the paperwork and now I’m majoring in Clown Acrobatics with a minor in Fooseball Strategy. It was either that or Recreational Hypnotism, but I decided that my undying love for circus antics made Clown Acrobatics the obvious choice.
Ha.
I don’t know if any of you have ever been confronted with this question, or any derivative form of it, but after hearing that phrase over and over this summer, I’ve come to the conclusion that the world is not very welcoming to the common English major. There are no “ooh”s or “aah”s when you proudly announce how you plan to spend the rest of your life.
It’s a common misperception that the English major cannot exist outside the realm of libraries, classrooms, and cubicles for the local newspaper.
…
So, I’m a little at my wit’s end with the whole I’m-obviously-skeptical-about-your-future-Erin-perhaps-you-should-take-my-advice-because-I-know-what’s-best-for-you look that people keep flashing my way these days. I’m just kind of tired of it.
Or perhaps I’m just tired.
I don’t know.
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