Somewhere around 21 years old, everyone hits the mid-ish life crisis that no one ever warned you about. While most college students are thrilled that finals are over and preparing to eat every crumb of food left in their parent's fridge, college seniors are peering into the dark abyss of life.
Stage one: Denial
The past four years have been pretty awesome don't get me wrong, but now it's time to search for jobs. Once you get over the initial terror of realizing that you can't be Beyonce, Kate Middleton or the next Kardashian, you begin spending hours, even days fixing your resume.
If I could just get this margin a half an inch to the left, I know I'll find a job.
That's how I felt until my dad sat me down for "the talk." For high school kids "the talk" entails a birds and the bees segment that is almost too embarrassing to stand. Today's talk, however, involved my father sitting across from me at the dining room table explaining one of life's greatest catastrophes. "You're not going to get a job," he said.
With the ticking time bomb of college loans looming in the near future and a 2-year-old cat depending on me to bring home the catnip, my father's words hit me like a freight train.
Stage two: Anger
Go to college, they said. Work hard, they said. You'll get a good job. They lied.
Stage three: Bargaining
There are only three options to move forward from here. Plan A is the most obvious -- grad school.
Grad school is the magical land of crying yourself to sleep at night if you ever get sleep and partying like a college kid when you find the time. It's also an amazing excuse to deflect the real world for another two years.
The next option is Plan B, the world traveler. That'd be cool if I were an heiress, but I'm not. So I can't.
Plan C is the coffee shop routine. Which sounds pretty appealing, but I intend on my cat having one of those awesome kitty condos, and those don't buy themselves.
Stage Four: Depression:
If I can't travel the world or be Beyonce, I might as well drink my weight in diet coke and marathon Netflix. It got me through college, why can't it get me through the real world too?
Stage 5: Acceptance
The acceptance came in the form of what I like to call my "big girl job." My big girl job includes corporate America, an entirely too expensive wardrobe where my hippy-ensembles won't do, and a pretentious Keurig that uses K-cups I can't afford.
This article, however, is for all of you who don't want to work for corporate America. This is a call to action to all of you who recognize that black isn't the only color necessary for a well-rounded wardrobe. It's for my travelers who don't have pockets full of cash, and the coffee house cool kids that can't afford cat condos.
Don't let the college life crisis get the best of you.