Not really. The wishy washiness is still firmly implanted deep in the tendrils of my being. I don’t think my being has tendrils, but it sounded really cool in my head and I went with it.
I am pretty sure I’ve mentioned on this blog once or never that I am not so enamoured with my major of choice, technical writting. So, I’ve been wracking/racking/racketeering/ROCKING my brain as to what else to choose. Math and Science extraordinaire was number 12 billion on my list of possible majors, so I’m pretty sure I’ll never make it that far down the list. Sorry rocket scientists; I will not be gracing your presence any time soon. I finally settled on liberal arts. I’m durn sure the liberal arts major is a prime major for people who can’t make up their minds to save their lives. Mostly because you don’t have to settle on one subject. It’s a conglomeration of a bunch of subjects all rolled into one big ole ball of confusion. And then there’s the never-ending question, Liberal arts, eh? And what exactly will you do with that major when you graduate? Pipe down, Barbara Walters! Good laws! Can’t please anyone up in this county.
A trip to the career center is in order, but I’ve seen my guidance counselor where she gave me a confusing rundown of all the requirements and then I decided to double minor in English and sociology. The liberal arts major also requires 2 years of a foreign language. Yo habla Espanol? Me llama, Patricia. Turns out knowing how to count to 10 in Spanish does not knock it down to a year requirement. I already asked.
Onward and upward friends. Until the next time we wishy washily meet.
craving a life 