This week I had a job recruiter call me up. That in itself is a nerve racking experience. A job… recruiter… As a graduate who lives in this British financial climate, the people who have the power to get you hired and earning money are like Jesus. Except better, because they won’t bugger off and get crucified #selfish.
In among this recruiter’s casual chatter and trying to persuade me to be put forward for a certain job (hello, you had me when you told me the position was paid), she did ask me one thing – how do you feel about being a graduate?
It’s a harmless question and one that’s been on many people’s lips. But it made me feel conflicted. I don’t know how to feel about it.
It’s been over a week since I had my last exam and ever since then I’ve been feeling lost. Before, what I like to call, the-end-of-all-things-day I had an idea that I would have certain emotions after I stepped out of that exam hall.
I thought I would feel immense relief.
The urge to take off my clothes and dive into the university’s fountains.
But truth be told, I felt none of these things. For a while, because the exam was particularly tough, I felt anxiety that I had just failed my degree. But after doing the grade averages, I knew that wasn’t the case. So without this worry about failing to graduating, I started to feel… nothing, nothing at all about graduating.
This isn’t the first time a major life event has failed to inspire Hollywood worthy emotions. I felt very little about leaving high school, failed to have an epiphany when I first went abroad and so far I have yet to have any kind of religious experience.
A while ago I wrote a blog post about wanting the crippling and cool apathy that MTV’s Daria has. Now that I’m experiencing this apathy, I’m starting to believe it’s more a curse than a gift. Like being Spiderman, but without the lyrca.
Maybe the real problem is my current living situation. I’m still in a student house. I’m still in my student city. I still don’t have a job. I am in adult limbo.
My student days are over in one sense, in that I don’t have to actually study anymore, but in another sense I’m still living the student lifestyle. I rarely get up before 9am. Most of my day is spent on the internet. And I’m still getting texts asking me to go out to a club on a Wednesday life.
With the exception of Carrie Bradshaw, this is not how real adults live.
Real adults have homes for ‘young professionals’. They pay a lot of rent. They go to work and on that note, they have a job.
I need a job.
I need to leave this comfy, yet slightly dusty, house.
I need to emerge from my student cocoon and become the beautiful butterfly that has a 9 to 5.
I mean, look at Rita Ora, she’s only 22 and she’s already accomplished so much. Same goes for Taylor Swift. Also, I’m currently readying Tina Fey’s book Bossypants and she was doing so much shit at this age. And Caitlin Moran had a paid column at the age of 18.
What am I doing with my life?
I have a blog that gets a majority of its views from people searching for dick pictures – my life needs to be more than this!
You know, now that I think about it, I am starting to feel some things about being a graduate. My chest is feeling a little tighter. I think my heart is going to explode and I’ve suddenly started sweating profusely.
My apathy had been cured and has been replaced with a crushing sense of fear.
I think I’m starting to grow up. Fuck.
I did not create any of these images and neither do I owned them. Obviously.