Final Countdown

When I was in my senior year of high school, I remember how irritated I was by people's constant inquiries into my college plans. The Big Question would slip out from the lips of teachers, friends, parents of friends, and the creepy men who struck up conversations with me on public transit. I learned to avoid the icky-deep-in-my-chest feeling that The Big Question gave me by robotically listing off all the schools I had applied to while trying not to freak out about my own sense of uncertainty about the future.

Tomorrow morning, I start my last. exam. period. EVER. (In case you were wondering why I'm blogging)

And WHAT I wouldn't give to be thinking of answers to The Big Question that plagued me three and a half years ago instead of the one that does now.

I don't know if people realize how confrontational they sound when they pose The Big Question 2.0, but my answers should clue them in.

"Oh, what are you studying?"
"English Lit."
"Oh. Huh. Like reading? (dramatic pause) Well, what are you planning on doing with that?"
"Uhhhhhhhhnnnnng."

Anybody who has been in the final semester of their arts degree should recognize that grunt as the sound of homicidal fury. I have nearly perfected it, but unfortunately, it doesn't bring me any closer to an idea of what the fuck I am going to do with my degree/life.

If you're looking for me any time in the next three weeks, I'll likely be hiding under the covers.