Alright, today’s the day. I’m going to declare my major! Will this decision have a lasting impact on the rest of my life? Probably. I’m a responsible adult. I’m just going to turn on the old laptop here and get started. The whole thing will take 45 minutes, tops. Who’s on top of their shit? This girl, that’s who! Wait, when did Adele drop this new song? I’m just going to listen to it real quick. I have plenty of time. Damn, that’s good! Ok, maybe listen two more times. Or five. HELLO FROM THE OUTSIIIDDDDE. I’ll work on nailing that chorus later. Come on Kayla, focus! What happened to being on top of your shit? Like Viola Davis– she’s always on top of her shit!
First things first, what should be my field of study? Maybe I could do more than one. Ha, but who am I kidding, I used up all my ambition and work ethic in high school. I’ll just settle for one major. I’m really feeling English. Yep! Not even a shadow of a doubt, English all the way. Then again, I did do well in that sociology class freshman year, and I’d sound so smart talking about privilege and rationalization and oppressive social structures. Aw, oppression, so much oppression,… the world is such sad place. Ok, sounds like Sociology is a no.
What about History? I got an A on that term paper last semester, and it was pretty cool to learn about plagues, medieval torture, and Roman orgies. But what the hell do you even do with a history degree? Maybe I could make regular appearances on Drunk History! Yeah, that would be fun. I would be able to get drunk and aimlessly ramble on about random things. I mean, that’s basically my life now, except it’s not televised and I don’t get paid for it. But all that drinking probably wouldn’t be good for my liver– or my self-esteem.
So, scratching off History. How does a degree in French sound? Then I could sing that one French part in Partition and actually know what it means! But being honest, that’s probably the only time that I would ever speak French. Three years’ worth of learning is a lot of work for a thirty second snippet of a song. So, French major is out! Why can’t “undecided” be its own major? I’m sure there are professions where being indecisive and uncommitted is a benefit, like politics! Maybe, I’ll just become a stripper. Except that wouldn’t work because I have a crippling fear of nudity, people, and G-strings. Why would someone agree to wear that? They’re like purposefully self-inflicted wedgies. Ugh, forget this, I’ll just go with good old English (not the beverage, that’s for later).
Now that the hard parts out of the way, all I have to do is pick a major adviser. Aww, that actually sounds harder! I only know, like, two of the English professors in the entire department. I’m sure one of them would only remember me because of that day I completely face planted in his class while walking to the bathroom. They didn’t even stop teaching! I had to just lie on the floor and drown in my own blood/embarrassment.
I guess I have to go with the other professor, Professor Graham. Do I, like, just email her or something? Dearest Professor Graham, would it please you to— Way too formal. Let’s try that again, more casual this time. What’s good, Wendy G, Major advisor or nah? Pretty sure that was worse. Come on Kayla, you got this. Just be confident and direct, but relaxed. Professor Graham. Major advisor, please? You know what, I’ll work on that later.
And look at all these credits I need to complete. There’s no way I’ll get all those before I graduate. And, I want to go abroad! Maybe, I can get extra credits if I take study abroad courses in England…because it’s, like, the home of the English. That makes sense right? Or am I just tired? Oh my god, I don’t even care about declaring anymore. All I want is that damn “I Declared” button! This is too much right now. I tried to be an adult and failed. But there’s no better remedy for failure than a nap. I’ll try this whole declaring thing tomorrow.