"It's Friday, I'm thinkin' Life's Goin' My Way"

I talked to my philosophy professor after class today. Just so you get an idea of what he's like, he's pretty young, just an adjunct, and he breezes in lateish every class, wearing some kinda mismatched get-up that you HAVE to love. Today was lavender corduroy pants and a green plaid shirt. And he plays guitar in some local band. He's also single, so no familial or girlfriend responsibilities or anything like that. Picturing it yet? Fabulous.

We talked about the future. Life. Social constraints and how nebulous they really are. He suggested that he could go backpacking through Europe or join the circus-- ANYthing! Which started me thinking...

What would I do? College is great and all, the plans for grad school are forming, the prospect of a job, a career, a future. But nothing is making me take that path. I have no children, no husband, no ties. Would I go to the Mediterranean and study tropical fish? Would I chase storms, tracking data for NOAA? Would I snorkel through the Caribbean? Would I take a pilgrimage to Westminster Abbey and the Poets' Corner? Would I drive up to Walden pond and protest Transcendentalism? Would I start The Coolest Band EVER? The options seem endless, matched by my varying passions.

And yet... here I sit, reading medievel French texts and blocking out a plot for the great American novel. I'll get my B.A., go back East for grad school, and continue to follow the path I only half-realize I'm walking. I already know this.

So why does life still seem so scarily uncertain?