After three semesters at Iowa State, I am more pessimistic about my future than ever before. My objectives seemed so clear when I first came here. The plan was simple. I was going to get a degree in electrical engineering. It would take four years, maybe a bit more. I would then get a job and everything would soon fall into place. I’d realize my true purpose in life, and I’d feel content and fulfilled.That dream is gone. I no longer pretend to know what my future holds. Before, my entire future rested on getting The Job. To get it, I would learn how to write efficient algorithms and design processors and leverage that knowledge to get hired by a major corporation. The problem with this strategy is that it required studying years in an area I just found little lover for last semester.Some of the subjects I find tolerable, some objectionable, and others I hate with a passion and want nothing to do with. Previously, my only hope was that after I had endured more school and a few years working I could afford to do something I remotely enjoyed. I don’t like that idea.I realized a while ago that while I like engaging in lively discussions with my roommate Steve about drive latency, dot pitch and the various merits of different game console controller designs, I would not want to be an engineer responsible for those things. I’d rather admire them. I don’t care how they work anymore.Two semesters ago, I would have committed infanticide to get a job at Retro Studios, the video game developer currently working with Nintendo on the Gamecube incarnation of “Metroid.”Since then, I realized getting a college degree, clawing my way up from a code monkey to finally become one of the designers who made Samus freeze head-sucking aliens and explode them with missiles would never be as fun as simply pointing my analog stick at them and doing it myself with the “A” button. I respect those guys but I’d rather play “Metroid” than develop it.I thought video game development would make a sweet compromise because it would be a marriage between the skills I would acquire and my inner-child satisfaction. I’ve since thrown out that idea as unrealistic. There are too many people smarter and more talented than I am. I’m no Shigeru Miyamoto or Hironobu Sakaguchi. My future in this industry probably ends with me developing “The Adventures of Mary-Kate and Ashley” for the PS3. The police would find my cold, lifeless body with my eyes gouged out, stapled to death. No one but my sister wants that. (My death, not the Olsen twins game.)Things start looking really bleak when I start crossing out possible careers in engineering, computer programming and video game development. There’s nothing left except my hobbies: drawing doodles and playing drums. Sadly, neither profession is very lucrative. Right now, I don’t have any idea what my strip would be about. Even if I got it off the ground, I’d be doomed to failure because newspapers would be too busy printing safe, time-tested strips to care. I’d still have to compete with established strips that will never retire, like “The Family Circus.” I might as well give up right now.I’d have to be even more stupid to go into music. I’d love to play drums in a rock band for the rest of my life, but it would never happen. The music industry, under the iron grip of the RIAA, is hardly conducive to talent, unless your talent is selling millions of records. Even if I tried my best to sell out, I still doubt I’d make it. All professional drummers, especially the studio guys, are just too good. I’d die hungry and lonely. The saddest part is that I wouldn’t just starve to death, I’d starve to death without artistic credibility. So no music career for Sam.I’m stuck. In my current major, I’m the epitome of an average engineer. I see people in my classes with so much enthusiasm and ambition that I simply do not share. They’ll become the great engineers. For lack of a better alternative, I’m going to tough it out anyway. My career opportunities look pretty mediocre right now but I know I’ll never risk that mediocrity for the chance to do something I really loved. That wouldn’t be me.