And What Are You Going To With That?

by Nicole DeMarco

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The above question has served as the bane of my existence for a solid three to four years now. Why, you ask? Oh, it’s because of my major. 17th Century Architecture? Nah. Pharmaceutical Marketing? Nope. Basket Weaving? Kinda…

…sike. It’s Latin. Yeah, Latin, as in e pluribus unum and all that noise. As a preemptive strike, I will neither confirm nor deny that I am currently engaged in the study of a “dead” language (rest assured, it is alive and well in meo pectore).

Now I know that there is a staggeringly overwhelming chance that in a few short years my yearning for elitist excellence and triumph over the rigors of academia will fade, and I will have become jaded by experience and delivering pizza. But in the meantime, I just can’t make any damn sense out of wasting my time doing something I don’t actively love. I can make sense out of ancient texts written eons ago, but not that. Never that.  I’ll get back to you all on what happens, now that my days as a blissful undergrad are numbered, and so, Carpe Diem.

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