So Maybe I was Eavesdropping

As I clean tables at In-N-Out, I often overhear bits and pieces of various conversations. Last night, as I attempted to use a magic sponge to remove several insufferable stickers (we hand them out to children) off of the tables, I heard a hipster youth assertively tell his friends: "But really...what can you do with an English major?"

Well, I thought, you could scrubs stickers for half an hour and work at In-N-Out with me. Or if you wanted to work in an office, you could land a job in a finance department with me. Which option sounds best? Because I'm an English major and that's what I do for a living.

One of his friends, a young girl holding a copy of some paperback book (I didn't want to stare long enough to make out the title) and the obvious target of his disapproval, said: "But I LOVE reading, and I LOVE writing."

I walked towards a suddenly empty table to clear trays and resume cleaning, but continued to think about their conversation. There have been moments recently, well many hours and even entire days, where I have hated "College Celia" who decided to get a degree in something she loved over something practical. At the time, I believed law school was the long-term plan. I thought I could major in a subject I absolutely loved while on the road to my ultimate goal. However, plans change. Now that law-school is nowhere in the near future, I cannot help but think: "Why did I even go to college!? For what? So I could take orders or adjust financial accounts? This has nothing to do with English!"

But last night, I remembered why I became an English major. I love books. I love words. I love writing. When I am doing mindless tasks at work, like cleaning restrooms or restocking ketchup dispensers, I often write blog posts, memoirs, or any kind of story in my head. I love reading blogs written by friends and family members or even complete strangers, especially when they are well written. I get excited over literary passages, poems, and song lyrics.

Words have the power to change us. That is why I am an English major. With this in mind, I walked back towards the table. I casually asked the group if I could clear their trays, then looked at the girl. Without being too awkward, I explained how I had heard a bit of their conversation, the part about English majors in particular. I told her if she loved books, then it was a good major for her. I let her know of all the possibilities: teaching, freelance, writing, editing, and even law school. We had an overwhelmingly positive, yet small conversation. It wasn't awkward at all (like I thought it would be).

The boy, who had made the comment earlier, looked at me and said: "Dude, you're changin' lives here. I can tell from just how you talk that you've gotta be an English major."

The girl gave me a knowing smile and all was right with the world for a few seconds, it felt. They stood up to leave, and I recognized the book underneath the girl's hands: The Book Thief, one of my favorites.

So thank you, Blog and blogging friends. You are my literary outlet.