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    • Hannah Sullivan

    • July 10, 2015 in Columnists

    True confessions of an English major

    1. I have the attention span of a goldfish when I read and write.

    It takes me longer than I care to admit to finish reading books. I either can’t get into them enough to dedicate myself fully or I find something better to read (or do). Only a few series or authors (or both) have been able to keep my full attention. Such a pity. Some books I think I’m really going to love just don’t do it for me. Am I too picky?

    What is funny about my slowpoke reading is that I can read graphic novels in one sitting. Go figure.

    Sometimes when I’m trying to write something, I write one sentence, think about something else, go to YouTube and spend a better portion of my night there instead of finishing what I started.

    2. I can’t spell.

    I’m one of those sound-it-out kind of spellers. Not every word is spelled the way it sounds. Thank the universe for spell check.

    Hors d’oeuvre — get the hell out of here.

    3. I have the vocabulary of a 10th grader.

    I may not always speak eloquently or read the dictionary before bed each night, but I like to think I’m smart, and that’s all that matters.

    4. Their, they’re, there etc…

    I admit it, I was a frequent misuser of these words back in the day. What was I thinking?

    It embarrasses me to think I was one of those people I’ve slowly learned to hate.

    5. I have no idea what I am going to do with my English degree.

    All I want is to hold that piece of paper in my hands that proves I accomplished something. My goal for right now is to be a young, educated woman.

    I have always excelled in literature courses. I’m addicted to the personalities of English professors and exploring their minds. If I could grow up to be half as amazing as the professors I’ve had, then I will be satisfied.

    The last adviser I saw when making my fall schedule told me that there will be no jobs for me once I graduate. Wow, thanks for the confidence boost. Apparently she knows all since she is an English major herself. What happened to following your dreams? Is that just some sort of delusion you’re spoon fed until you get to college, where dreams are no longer on the menu? I appreciate the dose of reality from this lady. It’s her job after all, but I refuse to believe it.

    I just want to get paid to read for a living. Is that too much to ask?

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