So if we get the big jobs
And we make the big money
When we look back now
Will our jokes still be funny?
Will we still remember everything we learned in school?
Still be trying to break every single rule
Will little brainy Bobby be the stockbroker man?
Can Heather find a job that won't interfere with her tan?
I keep, keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
Today, I woke up just like I do any other day; with a mouth as dry as the Sahara, hair looking like a bunch of beavers were nesting in it overnight, and the thought of skipping class lingering in my mind. But as the day went on, I started to realize something, thanks to several overly emotional tweets and Facebook updates: Graduation is exactly one month away (cue Green Day graduation song).
This is super stressful to me for several reasons. Firstly, it will no longer be acceptable to binge drink “because it’s Tuesday”. In the real world, that’s considered a “problem”, or something. Secondly, I’m probably never going to see half of the people I’ve met in college ever again. I’m not talking about my real friends, because we have an inseparable bond that will hold us together forever (right guys?). I’m talking about the other people. As much as I hate my weird, loud neighbor whose giant dog poops on my yard every day, I think I’m going to miss her, just a little. Leaving OU and not getting to see the same idiots every weekend at Seven47 is weirdly depressing.
But almost more stressful than those two things is that now we are expected to get a career. I use the word “career” because it’s more than a job. It’s more than working at Pickleman’s 2 days a week and making $78 a year, because a homeless person makes more than that. A career is a commitment. The world just expects you to know what you were destined to do the second you graduate college and commit to that for the rest of your life. No offense world, but THAT'S BULLSHIT.
As for me, I have absolutely no idea what I want to do after graduation. All I know is that I’d rather ride on the back of a trash truck every day for the rest of my life than do something involving math. I know that I’d rather join a nunnery than sit in a cubicle working on spreadsheets all day. Sometimes I get really jealous thinking about all the people who have jobs lined up after graduation. That must be a really great feeling. And I’m not saying I don’t secretly wish I could have that. Because having a steady income and getting to move out of your parents house the day after graduation must feel AWESOME. But I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m just not one of those people. I’m not the kid at the Baskin-Robbins who knows exactly what flavor I want before I get there. I’m the kid who insists on trying every single flavor multiple times before I finally pick one, after wasting about 17 sample spoons and thoroughly irritating everyone in line behind me. (Yes, I just made an ice cream flavor metaphor. Deal with it.) The fact that I don’t know what I’m doing doesn’t make me lazy or dumb or any other condescending adjective you might think of. I think it’s freeing. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m kind of excited about it. The way I see it, I have the option to move anywhere I want and do whatever I want! Except be a doctor. I probably can’t be a doctor.