This is my last semester in college. I am graduating in May. I have been having a really great time and everything, but I am beginning to feel a little hopeless about my life. Everywhere I go I get asked about what I’m going to do with myself after graduation, and this is the thing: I have no idea what I’m going to do! All of my friends are going to graduate school or have a really awesome job lined up, and I don’t have any that. I am just not interested in anything! My hopelessness is beginning to ruin the time I have left here, and I don’t want to look back on my last semester of college and say that it sucked!
When anonymous bystanders question your plans for the future, be honest and then kick them and quickly walk away. No, obviously I’m kidding about the kicking part, but one of the most ridiculously annoying aspects of being young is the enormous burden and blessing of being capable and full of potential for future success. The pressure to do something with your life that is magnificent and mind-blowing is immense, especially if you don’t know how to utilize your skills or if your daily existence has become a serious pressure cooker because you feel as if you can not live up to these expectations that have been placed before you; it’s a vicious feeling at either end of the spectrum, and I think that it’s pretty easy to feel hopeless even if you have a tightly drawn life plan.
But honestly, who really knows what the hell it is that they’re doing anyway? Not many of us, that’s for sure, and those that do only tell themselves that they’ve got it all figured out. Honestly, I don’t even think that my parents know what they’re doing with themselves.
In my oh-so-humble opinion, you need to simmer down because the answers that you’re searching for are not going to arrive while you’re busy comparing yourself to your peers and putting yourself down for your perceived lack of ambition. “They,” the life pundits, say that college is a time for personal growth and exploration, but personal growth does not instantaneously stop at graduation from college; anyone who would ever believe that four years is enough time to “figure it all out” (ahh, the beauty of the clich