Choosing a college major has to be the hardest thing to do in the history of ever. A quick summary of how our society works is as follows: you’re born, spend years in school, get a job, retire, die. It may just be me, but that’s seriously depressing. WHERE IS ALL THE FUN. We can’t declare a major because that’s committing the bulk of our life to a pretty much singular idea. And if you think you know what you want to do your freshman year of college expect a curve-ball because one’s most likely coming your way. Let’s just trust the 18-year-old kid to decide what they want for the next forty years. You know what I had for dinner last night? Root beer and Reese’s cups, that’s for sure screaming responsibility. I can barely feed myself, much less make a long-term decision that will determine the course of my life. Also, isn’t there some thing about an undeveloped frontal lobe impairing decision-making skills? Food for thought. So in conclusion, I’m basing my career interests on the Netflix shows I watch till 3am.