One doesn’t get to say this often, but here goes. I think Keanu Reeves said it best when he said, “Whoa!”

Whoa indeed – has it been four years already? It must not have been, because if it was I wouldn’t have a single general ed requirement to finish this summer – oops! Still, the world of the real looms large.

It’s time to get a job. But can I get a job? Probably not without more experience, so I get an internship? But can I stomach another internship? I’m supposed to be graduating; doesn’t that mean I can get a job?

Once I get a . gainful employment of some type . I need a place. Do I want a nice one, a dump, roommate, no roommate? Will I ever have time to be there outside of work in the first place? Will I remember to pay the rent? Can I make grilled cheese without burning the place to the ground?

These aren’t the kind of questions you want to admit to asking yourself when people ask, “What are you going to do after school?” It’s an imposing moment when the people who made your life possible start asking what you’re going to do with their goodwill, especially if the best answer you can offer is, “Send another resume.”

Let’s face it, by the time your college career is coming to an end, you are in more kinds of debt than you could have even imagined four, six, even eight years ago when you started.

There is financial debt, of course. Even the most hardworking and most skilled of college graduates will probably spend the first decade or so of their careers just paying back the money they spent to get there.

There is emotional dept. Your friends, family, classmates and professors didn’t reassure you so many times just so you could use your degree as a conversation piece.

Finally there are professional and courtesy depts. At some point someone probably cut you a break, or gave you an opportunity you didn’t fully deserve. When someone puts that kind of faith in you, it feels pretty lowdown not to do everything you can to validate it.

If I were to write a column just with of names of people who’ve made my life possible – and if it weren’t totally inappropriate for the point of this page I would – the list would stretch well beyond my space and probably somewhere into the news section. I’m willing to bet that every person who walks through graduation can say the same.

When seniors start whispering about “the world,” expectations are just one of the things we get nervous about. We know our friends won’t abandon us if we don’t get out to a flying start right away. Hopefully they actually saw something worthwhile in the first place. No, we get nervous because there is so much out there.

I think I want to work in newspapers, but is that what will really make me happy? Maybe instead of working on 30-minute deadlines and 24-hour news cycles I want to live at a more leisurely pace writing about science. Maybe I want to join the Peace Corps or become a professor of some kind. There are so many possibilities in this world. It’s unfortunate so few that offer immediate openings and a steady salary.

Just what to do with life and where to begin becomes quite an imposing question. There are a lot of opportunities to take and challenges to be met on the way to full self actualization and, unlike Mr. Reeves, we can’t all fly over them or take them out with gun-fu. Probably it’s best to go back to the things we told ourselves when we were just getting started – take it one step at a time and go with the flow.

The way I see it, mapping out your whole life on graduation day is like deciding how much money you are going to spend before you get to the bar. It limits your options and it only makes you feel guilty when you inevitably deviate from the plan.

Remember, one degree isn’t good for just one kind of career and one career isn’t good for just one kind of life. There are many definitions of success and many paths fulfillment. We honor everyone who helped us out, including ourselves, by having the courage to pursue the one we want.

– Kevin Stillman is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Emmetsburg.