Farewell, Cal High. And now, a hysterical list of what one can do after high school


Seniors, we are now done with high school. What are some options for what to do next?

We could go to college. We could go the military. We could become facetious bloggers that sip coffee and fill with so much false confidence we stop paying taxes.

We could adopt a dog. We could skin a cat. We could discover new science and turn into dogs and cats.

We could go scuba diving. We could go sky diving. We could go skinny dipping.

We could buy lottery tickets. We could vote. We could go to grown-up jail!

We could get a full time job. We could call in sick to that job without parent confirmation. We could be fired for complete ineptness.

We could buy a house. We could get an apartment. We could make some terrible friends and life choices to pay for that apartment. We could live in a box. We could live with a fox. We could live under an overpass. We could manufacture stained glass.

We could throw a party for ourselves because we are great. We could throw a party for ourselves out of pity. We could emerge from the party stupor by writing a book on transcendent philosophy.

We could find the cure to cancer. We could believe we found the cure to cancer but accidentally create a few mutant beings because we haven’t been trained as doctors. We could visit the Tropic of Cancer to dispose of those mutants.

We could go work at Google. We could Google how to work.

We could be lumberjacks. We could throw wood. We could chuck wood. We could train a pet woodchuck to chuck wood. Would we chuck wood at a woodchuck? Perhaps. We could be promoted to efficiency analysts. We could create a graph to figure out how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.

Each and everyone of us could adopt a rescue goldfish. Almost all of us could keep that goldfish alive for weeks. Some of us could become goldfish.

We could obtain our realtor’s license. We could obtain a driver’s license. We could lie to a sensable driver.

We could advance in title and become famous comedy writers. We could finally finish our novel. Or we could just stick to the things we know we’re good at, namely, using glue. Or wordplay.

Are any of these plausible? Sure! But likely? Eh. We can be superior.