That was kind of my worst-case scenario for this whole writing thing. Let's face it, Fitzgerald and Hemingway may be revered for their literature, but that's not the way I want to go out. Sitting in front of a computer screen one night junior year, staring at line after line of code, I just snapped. I remember calling my parents, telling them I had no idea where my life was going. I cried as if I had contracted my life over to Bill Gates, or the way little Timmy would cry if they ever pulled an Old Yeller on Lassie.
Some people never agonize about their futures.
Some people can picture exactly where they'll be on Nov. 29, 2023. Some people know what they'll be wearing on Nov. 29, 2023. I look down at least five times a day just to make sure my socks match my shirt. But those other people . . . These are the same people who always knew where they were going to school.