First, you must graduate high school thinking you're amazing at everything. There is nothing that you cannot do. Especially, however, you are great at math and English. When you make the choice between the two, however, choose math. Math is more respected and will make you feel more reputable. After all, you did get an A in Calculus your senior year.
Then you must enter college, and fail miserably in math. This makes no sense--you're in a Calculus class, after all. After barely passing, you decide that your procrastination and laziness got in the way. Thus, you take the same math class again the next semester. Half-way through the class you realize you hate Calculus with a passion and no longer want to major in math. Again, you barely pass Calculus.
You now decide that you want to teach and major in "family and consumer science education." You reason that you like cooking, shopping for clothes, and the idea of sewing. You enroll in 2 major related classes. You drop sewing within the first week. You hate sewing. In your Home and Family class, you are grateful there is no gun to shoot yourself as you learn about the spiritual aspect of the mundane things in life--changing diapers, for instance. You begin jetting for the door on completion of your quizzes until your teacher threatens to not give you credit unless you stay for the whole period (so you may learn about Jesus and diapers).
Take random GE's until you decide to serve a mission.
Come back from an 18 month mission--still clueless--and take an advertising class with your friend because his dad teaches it. It's fun, he tells you--easy, too. This class is not easy. You probably should have bought the text book. But by golly, your project turned out pretty nifty, so now you're going to major in advertising! Plus, you're running out of GE's.
Next, be clueless that you need to be declared a pre-communications major to get into the required pre-requisites for this major. You figure this out months later and have to waitlist all your classes and cross your fingers that you get in.
You get into all but one. At the end of the semester you realize you're screwed because you now will have to wait a year and a half in the hopes that you get into the program. Silently curse your stupidity and figure out what the heck your daddy's "late bloomer" is going to do with herself. Not wanting to waste your time and the government's money, you decide to switch majors--yet again.
Decide to major in English--something. Start taking the classes. Realize that you finally feel at home. Write a "How To" paper for your writing class.
