It is sophomore year and the end of the first semester is near. With it comes pile upon pile of projects and papers, and the students who work furiously on them to meet deadline upon maddening deadline.

Close behind are the reports, exams and presentations, all coming together to form a glorious heap of academic junk, much of which will go into a trash bin as soon as the break kicks in and spring cleaning comes around. Just like the lessons we will forget about as soon as we get our grades, get out of college, and get into our jobs.

It seems that this is what college trains us for — to be efficient cogs who work obediently and persistently at tasks. For courses that are structured for specific careers, undergraduate life is a truly lifelike simulation: our instructors are the supervisors, and we are the employees, who are compensated and promoted based on our levels of performance.

But alas, we are human, and it is only a matter of time before we start becoming low on our batteries, fulfilling our tasks for little more reason than to be able to meet the deadlines. Stuck in the midst of such mindless processing, it is only a matter of time before we begin to ask, “what the hell am I doing this for?”

That is when you know you are having an identity crisis.

The decision to shift becomes a reality for most college students at the onset or the middle of sophomore year. During this time, students begin to realize that freshman year was simply child’s play, an extension of high school that told us nothing about the courses we had chosen.

It is here that students truly experience the joys — or horrors — of their chosen courses, in the form of subjects such as organic chemistry, macroeconomics, and accounting. It is here when we realize that our high school selves had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into.

But regardless of our innocence, the responsibility is ours alone, and deciding to shift has its consequences. Most universities will make you pay to get into the course that you desire. And the costs are higher for some than for others.

A Communications major who decides to shift into Business Economics or Applied Mathematics in Finance will certainly have more than a semester’s worth of backlog in requirements, and mostly for icky mathematics.

Conversely, a Business Management major who decides to shift into English Literature will have a much easier time with their subjects, but a much harder time from their parents or peers.

Still, sophomore year is the best time to shift, as chances are you will graduate on time. But more importantly, chances are that by this time we will have known enough about ourselves to follow a path that is right for us.

The problem arises when after two years of college, we realize that we are not any better equipped to make this decision.

When this happens, the best thing to do is to sit in some dark, secluded corner and weep. Weep because you have a very serious problem, but more importantly, weep to get the inhibitions out of your system. After all, the desire to shift can arise from psychological and emotional weariness. When after weeping you realize that you are simply tired, the best thing to do is to catch up on some sleep. In the morning, you will find that your priorities are intact.

But if afterwards you still feel a stirring within your heart that your course, like a failed marriage, is not right for you, perhaps shifting is worthy of more serious consideration. At this point, it is best to draw up possible five to 10 -year scenarios for yourself, to see whether shifting will take you to an outcome that is more desirable than where your current life is headed.

At times, the desire to shift is accompanied by the yearning for a particular track — do not fall prey to this so quickly.

Second-guess yourself. The heart is fickle, and following it mindlessly can lead to heartache and regret.

And when you realize that you want to go, but you don’t know where to — it is probably best to stay.

Staying is often the safest option. Weep again, if necessary; staying can be a painful decision when you don’t like your course. But remember that college is not the be-all and end-all of our lives or careers. Unless you are truly passionate (or in business school), the degree you end up with is almost never the career you end up in. I cannot assure you that you will not regret it, but chances are you won’t.

Because there is life after college.

(The author is a sophomore at the Ateneo de Manila University. Visit http://james.soriano-ph.com, or mail me at james@soriano-ph.com)