Fresh packs of notebook paper, three-ring binders in fashion colors, and multi-colored Pilot rollerball pens … “Things you need, stuff you want!”

Passing through the Memorial Union bookstore last week, the frenzied expressions of parents and students reminded me of my own “Back to School” buying rituals: always last minute, always frantic, but I just had to have that stuff.

As my friend Cole likes to say, “Frenzy is a handy replacement for planning.”

Didn’t these people know they were going back to school before this weekend?

Ever see ants run around in a frenzy? No, because they are instinctually programmed with a plan. They don’t even have to learn how to do it.

Speaking of plans, is anyone else here starting college without a real plan?

Sure, you want to get an education, earn a degree, and yes, learn a skill or a trade with which to make money, right?

But these are general goals, like saying, “I want to go to Hy-Vee to buy food.”

Well, no kidding, but shouldn’t we be more specific?

When I was in college for the first time, my only plan was to get a degree — something I viewed as a passport to complete autonomy. It worked.

A month after graduation I was making good money and I had complete freedom. It was wonderful until I got used to having money and, of course, spending money because then I wanted and needed more money.

Suddenly I was married to my job, a job I only accepted in the first place because they offered so much money.

Oh, sure, it was fun for awhile, but there is nothing like a 40-hour week, year after year, to take the fun out of what you’re doing.

Even the best pizza will lose its appeal 15 days in a row later.

My brother Dave accuses me of exaggerating, but that is basically how I define my life between March 1976, when I graduated from college, until June 1998, when I was accepted into the graduate English program here at Iowa State.

Twenty-two years of work (and spending) that I didn’t even plan on.

I did squeeze in a short marriage, raised a child, did a stint in the Peace Corps, moved and changed jobs a couple hundred times, and made probably $700-800K income, but what do I have to show for it today? Financially, zip.

Why? Because college didn’t teach me anything about “flourishing” in the world; it simply gave me a gilded permission slip to enter the rat race. Why didn’t anybody teach me about planning?

Dave, who studied business and makes over $100K, argues that this is not the “job” of colleges.

I’ve argued that learning how to flourish in the work world — how to balance work and life, avoid the debt trap, invest intelligently for the future — is essential to the pursuit of happiness.

Who else is going to teach us? Any volunteers? High school teachers? Parents?

Okay, the silence is deafening here. Will no one teach us how to plan for the future? No.

My own theory is that not everyone is supposed to flourish. Simply think of your future, working-self as a silent, worker ant who works diligently to support the queen — who by the way, just sits around getting fat.

In order to keep the system working smoothly, we worker ants must work consistently, dependably. And the only way to maintain this status quo is to keep us hungry: that is, wanting more than we have, more than we can afford, more than we really need.

Because I’m one of the slower-witted working ants, it took me years to figure this out. But finally, two months ago, I broke out of worker ant prison: I quit my job. Not that the queen will miss my minor contributions, but somehow I feel vindicated.

I did give up my comfy house and $35K a year spending money. I won’t be taking any vacations to Hawaii in the near future and I will just have to make do without that $17K 1998 Volkswagen I like so much.

No more fancy rollerball pens and, sigh, no more expensive micro-brews to cool my palate. But the quality of my life will be measured differently from now on.

No, I still don’t have a plan, per se, but how many of us do? Maybe I’ll just stay here, refuse to return to the ant hill.

What other life occupation allows you to dedicate yourself to learning on a 24-hour basis?

Every day is a new adventure in human relations, social history, contemporary thought … quite possibly better than micro-brew.

Dave says, “Those were the best years of my life.” Too bad he loves his job; he could be living in the best years of his life instead of reminiscing about them.

---

Kata Alvidrez is a graduate student in English from Los Angeles, Calif.