"Dude, we totally should have done the 10 year plan."

God, am I lucky to still be in college.  And no, I’m not just talking about the amazing carefree, party animal, parent-less lifestyle of mine (life literally does not. get. better).  I’m talking about the luxury of not having to deal with the real world in a currently not-so-great world.

As if graduating and moving on to becoming an adult and a real person (ew) isn’t bad enough, struggling to get a job doesn’t make it all any more appealing.  Nothing sucks more than going for an interview and then waiting to hear back…only to realize there is a great chance you won’t. Ever. At all. Just imagine how the class of 2009 feels, as fewer than a fifth of the graduating seniors have job offers. A fifth!!  The frustration and aggravation is awful, and people are being forced to completely alter their original life plans.

As a result, graduates are looking for alternatives to work, such as volunteering and participating in public service programs (applications for the Peace Corps were up by 16 percent this spring over last year!) and even going abroad to find other options. Others are expecting to attend graduate or professional school.

Even the lucky ones who do actually get offers aren’t so lucky.  Jobs for new college grads are paying less than in previous years.

It’s times and statistics like these that make me love my 2 hour art history class, which used to be quite a difficult task considering the prof is more interested in hearing his own voice than saying anything marginally interesting to us students. But I’ll take that over being a jobless grad any day.

Ugh. College, don’t ever leave me!

I’ve learned a lot about myself in these months since I’ve graduated. Most importantly I’ve learned that I have severe and occasionally life-threatening problem with jealously. I like my friends, some more than others, and I want them to do well. However I don’t want them to do well until I’m doing well. That’s fair, right?

It takes enormous amounts of effort for me to congratulate a friend upon hearing they got a job. Literally, I have to type one letter at a time while I suffer from a self-induced panic attack. I practically have to have Xanax on hand 24/7 in case I get one of those excited voice mails (I no longer answer the phone, too risky having to fake enthusiasm) telling me that someone got offered a job.

I want to be happy for them. Rationally I know that they all worked hard and deserve it. Unfortunately I don’t think rationally very often and instead of sharing my friend’s enthusiasm I spend the whole time comparing myself to them. I run through everything they’ve accomplished versus my accomplishments and I always come to the disturbing conclusion that I’m more qualified for the job, no matter how unrealistic or untrue that may be.

Someone from class got an engineering job…I was very good at K’nex…I deserve it more.

Someone else got a teaching job…I had teachers…I’m not only qualified, but possibly overqualified.

And the list in my head goes on and on.

As more and more people get jobs, I notice the people left like me, unemployed, are growing increasingly bitter. We spend hours complaining about our joblessness. People who overhear us must assume that we have six kids at home to feed and a mortgage to pay off…why else would we sound so angry?

As I write this blog, I see how crazy this all sounds. I also see I might not be a very good friend. So maybe this week, when I get that inevitable e-mail about some friend being hired to be an astronaut, I’ll say congrats and almost actually mean it.

Even though I’ve eaten Dots: Ice Cream of the Future… and that makes more qualified for Nasa than anyone.

My friend Veronica (not her real name) is in the middle of such a slacker paradise. She’s temporarily living at home until she can relocate with her boyfriend to an as-of-yet unknown locale, she was recently laid off from a job she hated anyway, and she’s one of the only people I know who doesn’t freak out in a situation like this. But as someone looking on at her life and her relationship from a slight distance, I’m freaking out on her behalf.

Her boyfriend recently bought a Wii, that addictive gaming console that lets you bowl or play tennis by swinging a white remote around and looking like a moron. I love my friend, and I love that she’s so comfortable with her boyfriend that she can hang out with him in her pajamas, and I love that he finds her sexy even when she doesn’t shower. But I think there’s a fine line between being comfortable with your other and being stuck in a rut.

Veronica and her boyfriend have long been turning into the same person. First, it was their jokes, sometimes funny, sometimes offensive, as if they were nudging each other on. Now, it’s their attitudes towards life, a blasé, things-will-work-out-on-there-own attitude that seems to magnify the longer they are together. This may sound as if I don’t like them together, but that’s actually not true. He’s a good person and he treats her well, and I wish I could be as relaxed and go-with-the-flow as she is, but I’m not, so I worry.

The risk of the slacker dream is real. When you’re in college you have time apart literally built into your schedules. You have class time, study time, maybe lab time, apart. When you’re employed, this time triples, quadruples, to forty+ hours a week. The time you spend together is then more thought-out, more carefully utilized. Sleeping in together becomes a treat and dinners out aren’t an everyday thing but a date. While the sleeping ‘til noon life with your boyfriend might sound like heaven, it can actually be very unhealthy. I’ve been there.

When you spend all your time with your other, morning, noon, night, and happy hour, you lose all perspective. I spent a year and a half attached at the hip to a boyfriend. I drifted way from friends, put on five (okay, ten) pounds, and at one point even wore a ring on that finger. It wasn’t until a study abroad trip to Prague threw me back into reality (a very grey, post-Communist reality). I hadn’t entered into some loving, comfortable place with my boyfriend, I’d gotten stuck in the mud, and I hadn’t even noticed.

Now, I’m not suggesting you take a trip to Prague if you’re in the relationship mud (goulash and dumplings is really an acquired taste), but I do think you should take a mini vacation from your relationship. Not a break, not at all, but a few nights without him. Go to a bar with just the girls, rent a few cheesy romantic comedies, take a weekend trip to Las Vegas or Atlantic City and dress up in your finest glittery gold. What’s the harm? If he loves you than a weekend without you isn’t going to send him into the bed of some floozy. If the time apart gives you a new perspective on the relationship and you decide that it’s not working, then I’ve saved you the year of heartache I wish I’d been saved from. And if distance really does make your heart grow fonder, your relationship will flourish upon your return.

[photo from punchbutton.beloblog.com]