Amanda's Approach, hancocae@miamioh.edu
I don't know. I declare that as my default answer, the box I wish to check and the empty oval I would like to eternally fill in when anyone asks me a senior year question.
You know the kind of question I'm talking about - the one that happen when an acquaintance, or a distant relative or a especially curious cashier at Kroger makes the lovely connection of what it means to be almost done with college.
They suddenly have permission to ask the worst kinds of questions. This is why on any occasion where the phrase "I'm a senior" is forced to escape my mouth, I immediately brace for impact.
I can spot the inquisitive look rising on the other person's face, the twinkle in their eyes as they picture me gleefully tugging at my bright red cap, off to take the post-grad life by storm. I take a step back, hoping they won't see the terror from afar.
And then they ask, because they're thinking about the impressive set-in-stone things on my agenda.
Before I can check for the emergency exits, it's happening.
Here it comes.
"You're a senior? Well, what are your big plans?"
This is when I go into panic mode. I attempt to unleash some sequence of nondescript syllables that will be pleasing to this person's ears. I search my brain for the right words, the magical set of plans that are hiding somewhere in the depths of my indecisive soul. They might as well be asking for the steps to a twelve-part algorithm and I'm just not ready to walk up to a chalkboard.
I'm thinking, how many different versions of "I have no idea" are there in the English language and which one would you prefer? I've tallied 12 so far, in the time I should've been applying to jobs.
It seems rather unassuming and obvious at first and, maybe in theory, it shouldn't be a burdensome conversation topic.
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Oh, but it is. One simple back and forth like this can unlock the floodgates of mental breakdowns.
Saying the senior word is like an open invitation to reveal that I don't have it together. That I don't know what action verbs to use on my resume and I don't know if this skirt is the appropriate length for business casual and I don't know how to balance my checkbook. There's actually a giant blank abyss waiting for me where a detailed future plan should be, thank you for asking.
With three years at Miami behind me, I would like to spend this year celebrating the things I know well, like my go-to Starbucks order and the colorful signs at Bagel and Deli.
I would like to avoid the long list of unknowns for as long as possible and yes, that includes consistent reminders that I don't know what I'm doing with my life.
And it's hard to not know, to have uncharted territory lurking around the real-life corner. This isn't what senior year is supposed to be about.
Senior year is supposed to be for extravagant items on bucket lists and making picteresque memories, but the unknowns leave me wanting to eat Chipotle burritos alone in my sweatpants. Or do I want Jimmy Johns? Ugh, I don't know.
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