My college diploma is about as meaningful to me as a Facebook wall post from my ex. It’s not that I think people don’t get something out of college, I just wasn’t one of those students. Any liberal arts major that drinks most of the week, and pops an Adderall a day before the final to pass it, will not leave his college campus with a plan. And without a plan, you drift.
A drifter is someone without a long-term goal, someone that will drink and play Halo because it’s a lot more fun than pondering what would happen if you quit your job at Applebee’s. I drifted in college—no long-term goal, no real purpose, just party and get a diploma. Well, I got the diploma, and as soon as I set foot outside of my college bubble, you guessed it—head scratch, Craigslist job-hunt, and take first job I can find. Welcome to mediocrity and more drifiting.
The art of drifting is anyone who wakes up ten years after college and says, “Holy sh**, what has happened to me.” It’s anyone who refuses to take a leap or a risk, or look in the mirror and ask themselves tough questions. It’s anyone who would rather not stir up things, give anything back, set goals, be ambitious, or find passion in what they do.
To stop drifting takes only one thing: a burning goal. For me, “get a diploma” was not a burning goal, but what I was told to do. But with a little soul-searching, and one mistake after the other after college, eventually I found something worth seeking. It is what made me say “no” to six days of debauchery and being content with my direct deposit cube life. It gave me a purpose; but most of all, it made me believe in something.