College Connections: The Right Way To Go

I've decided that, as a senior, thinking about things is more of a problem than a solution. Whoever decided to make us conscious beings, well, they should have thought again.
My goal for the first semester of my senior year at Boston College was to  reinforce that the path I was choosing after college was, indeed, the perfect path for me. Meaning, everything I would do could only reinforce the fact that I was going to be making the right decision. Included in all of this was enforced ignorance of the alternatives and the perpetuation of convincing myself, roughly translating into repetition.
When asked, "What are your plans after college?,"  it became all the more important to have an answer, to avoid looking like an idiot and / or a lost soul. Therefore,  I memorized this quick response, "I will hopefully be working in PR. I have specifically been looking at international agencies, I am going to apply to jobs in Los Angeles as well as Boston and New York."
Depending on the interest of the questioner, I would then go into my proof that I actually knew what I was talking about, tying in my internship experience and explaining the job market for public relations, and thus explaining why I don't actually have any physical evidence to back up my plan, yet. Depending on how well this person actually knew me, I would also be explaining why I would not be pursuing a career in writing / journalism. The answer most assuredly would go into the most logical of answers – economics : no one will ever argue with that. If this person was listening closely to my answer and caught the one hint of indecision  (the one part of my rehearsal in which I was a) remaining true to myself and admitting defeat, b) attempting to give the rehearsed lines a little believability by making it comfortably fallible, and c) not directly dashing the dreams of whoever I was talking to in cementing the fact that I would be a coast away, de facto, which also is closely tied to my last stipulation d) in that I would not completely be making my decision of four years prior seem completely pointless by admitting I might just be moving back home, therein undermining the necessity and practicality of spending the last four years thousands of miles away from home), I would also be explaining the location conundrum.
The key to the answer was logic and reason.  The more it made sense, the more I was able to move along the conversation and avoid any awkward pauses, which might enable either party to think. The formula is all too familiar to anyone like me, who applied to more than a dozen colleges out of denial and overeagerness. This kind of action, which at the time seemed like the easiest route away from the difficult decision-making process, soon devolves into just what it always was – an indecisive stalemate. For the most part, however, other people were making the decisions for you. "Sorry, your application has been denied from Berkeley." There goes option one. It only started to get a bit tougher when the acceptance letters  started rolling in. But the path to successful decisiveness is what leads us to our present predicament: logic. Which is why when rehearsing my list of reasons for BC, I came up against much more opposition than I am now facing (explaining the reversal of "Manifest Destiny" isn't an easy sell).
However, senior year part two is a different story. Reason may save you, but, then again, it could all just be pretense. And that is where thinking comes in. It is that stranger who, in the night, takes away the stilts holding up all certainty within our lives. Creeping in when never wanted, suddenly questions like, "Where is this going?, "What is the purpose of these last four years?," and, "Why am I not helping the lepers in Ghana?" seem to undermine the simplest of post-college plans. Without warning, all those rehearsed lines become ghosts in the night, and one is left to think again. 
Thinking, however, is not the same as reasoning your way to the most logical conclusion. It shouldn't matter what our plans are. Loans aside, having a concrete life plan at the age of 22 is a little much to ask, and asking that this plan also make sense within the context of the past 22 years of our life is a vacuous imposition.
For those who still subscribe to the remains of the "American Dream," I have my lines rehearsed.