Life obviously does not come with an instruction manual, and I’ll be the first to admit – sometimes I wish it did. When I went off to college, I knew it would take awhile to learn the ins-and-outs of living on campus, actively learning, and partying like a rock star, but it didn’t take me long to learn how to be what I like to call a “professional college student,” fulfilling all the duties and stereotypes known to man. It was easy. Post-grad though, well, it’s just a little more complicated.
ve been in California for nearly two months now, but everyone I run into asks the same question: “Are you going to move here permanently?” Those back in Georgia frequently ask me “Do you see yourself moving back home?” And of course, with the LSAT on my mind 24/7, the inevitable question of “Where do you want to go to law school?” comes up.
A few weeks ago, when my alarm went off at 6:30 in the morning (after hitting snooze at least four times), I rolled out of bed feeling like the very definition of a hot mess. My hair was stuck to my cheek, I reeked of alcohol, and my head was pounding. I stumbled into the bathroom, convinced I was still a little drunk, looked in the mirror, and thought about the 12-hour day I had ahead of me.
I’m officially a college graduate and am joining the masses of recent grads sobbing audibly as they scroll through their Facebook photos from the past 4 years moving to a new city and a new life. As I pack up my boxes once again, I’ve realized that my college dorm décor may not exactly suit for the real world.
Life lesson #43298: What you think you should do is sometimes completely different than what you want to do – If only I could jump back to last summer to tell myself!
I’m out of college, on the opposite side of the country, living with my dad who thinks he is starring in his own comedy sitcom, and completely alone. Those closest to me are elsewhere. My boyfriend is on the opposite coast. My best friend is in the middle of Atlanta. My dearest, bestie ever is living in South Africa! My college friends are strewn across the USA.
Another week has passed and I’m one week closer to graduation. In ten short days I will stand up, toss my cap in the air, and graduate in front of family, friends, professors…and a bunch of random people I don’t know.
It’s May 26 and I officially have less than three weeks left in my college career. Most of you are already out of school (how’s that going by the way?), but I have twenty more days left. That means twenty more days to stress about my unplanned future before graduation day.
I did it! I graduated. Although the moment of hearing my name, walking across the stage, receiving my diploma, and turning my tassel went by incredibly fast, the road to Commencement has been an unforgettable eye-opening four-year journey.
Originally, I thought I wanted to attend graduate school and work towards a higher degree in English literature. I spent the entire fall semester working on taking the GRE exam, filling out graduate applications (and spending major money on sending them out!), and writing the most intense essay of my undergraduate career to send along to my program choices.
A year ago I was packing up my college apartment, saving my most memorable theme party costumes (sexy dining hall worker didn't go over as well as I thought it would), and crying in the most unattractive wipe-your-snot-on-your-sleeve fashion. As far as I knew it my life was completely over. I was jobless, destitute, and way too close to sober.
Despite being called one of the most brilliant and inspiring 20-somethings in the country (Huffington Post said it, I can't make this stuff up), I lack the ability to play any kind of organized sports. And that's not to say I didn't use to try.
I'm a little cocky in the kitchen. But that's probably because I'm the best short order cook that I've ever met (and that's including the time I met Ratatouille). I can't even begin to tell you how many times I sat in my college kitchen and re-enacted stressful scenes from Top Chef. I played all the contestants and my broom played Padma (pre-pregnancy).