Yesterday I went hiking with Nick and our friend, Marisa (with one ‘S’) and it nearly killed us. It was seven miles roundtrip and we left in the afternoon while the sun was high and dangerous. Every single step of the way I wanted to give up. Put a pin in that.
*erratic segue*
I am filled with fear and excitement. I want to simultaneously throw up and eat a lot of cake at the same time. I am freaking out with all of the possibilities before me. It has finally hit me that me deciding to forgo getting a job directly after graduation to travel the world doesn’t have to end here.
Well, okay yes my savings were running out so it technically needed to end, but the metaphor didn’t need to end.
I’m only 22 so I recognize that I’m in the fairy tale head-space of “the world is my oyster” and an “a dream is a wish your heart makes” so I don’t need an angry 39-year-old to run in and crush me right now with cynicism. I get it. I’m young and naive but I want to take hold of this power and see where it takes me.
Many of my friends graduated college in May and we’re all trying to figure out what our next steps are.
A high percentage of my friends graduated as nurses (I think ahead) and are more than happy to take care of our sick and injured. Others graduated with the question of, should I go to graduate school, was this theater degree as bad of an idea as my parents said it would be, should I never have trusted my 18-year-old self with deciding to pay all this money for a degree I may never use?
It’s scary and usually expensive business (without any actual business because we’re all unemployed).
Luckily I still feel pretty good about my degree in journalism and mass communication, and my certificate in creative writing only makes me that much spicier.
Every day I wake up with newfound optimism or crippling anxiety that makes me want to cry and throw childhood stuffed animals at a TV playing The Office because it only reminds me that I do not have an office to go to, nor any crazy but lovable co-workers to call my own.
I don’t even have access to childhood stuffed animals because I’m not even staying with my own parents. So I’m not even doing the “living at home in my parent’s basement” thing right. Where is my basement? Are you my mother? Did anyone read that book as a child? Can someone relate to me and stop my annoying rhetorical questions?
I’ve been spending a lot of time in Barnes and Nobles applying for jobs and reading all of the books in the “Fresh graduates” section as well as one cookbook to read recipes about chocolate chip cookies when I feel sad and/or hungry.
Where was I going? Oh yes, feeling optimistic about my future. At least in this brief moment.
So anyway, Nick, Marisa and I were braving nature yesterday and as we were walking back down the trail I recognized two things:
- Horse poop is a good marker for finding your way back
- We’ve already gone through this shit, literally
All this to say, every one of us, no matter how young or old has most likely gone through some shit. Whether it was literal horse shit or crappy life experiences, but we can keep pushing on. At the end of the trail there will be a car that can drive you to Sonic and there you will be rewarded with a sweet, sweet Cherry Limeade served by a teenager in roller blades. Another metaphor for success.
If you’re still following what I’m saying, we can do this.
We can do this.
We can do this.