It’s not really a point of pride to say that you’re moving back in with your parents. That statement is usually followed by the visual of a prematurely bald man eating cheetos on a couch in the basement while yelling MAAAA as cheese dust falls upon his beer soaked shirt. Ok, that may be a tad much. But, that’s the image I see when I think about the move back home.
Fortunately, I’m neither of those things…except a cheeto lover, but if you’ve read this blog for a while now you’d already know that. But, moving back home takes me back to my childhood/teenhood and that’s a place I never want to go again. Luckily, I took down the wall of *NSYNC memorabilia, concert glowsticks included, a few years ago. Hey, I thought they’d make a comeback. My old room now has the mature look of someone who has lived on her own for eleven years and would rather this be a guest room.
We always assure people that this move will be ‘temporary’. ‘I’m just trying to save up some money‘, we say. ‘I’m biding my time while I look for a new place‘, they say. And that’s fine, as long as it’s not ten years down the road and you’re still trying to use that excuse. We should consider ourselves lucky that our parents would be willing to let us back in. I watched Empty Nest as a small child, I know some things.
I should probably set some ground rules, though, just in case.
I’ve been away for a bit doing big adult things that I didn’t think I’d ever be doing. I applied, interviewed, and landed a new job. Just like that. Which is ironic considering my last post was titled ‘someone’s supposed to hire us‘.
Yes, I will be starting a brand new job next month. I’m packing all of my things to move back in…with…my parents. BUT only for a short time, because that other big adult thing I did was contact the bank for a mortgage loan person helper guy. He told me I’m financially ready to buy a house. Which sounds ridiculous. Me. A homeowner. I haven’t even rescued my future cat yet.
But, that seems to be how things work out now. All of a sudden. One minute you’re pretending to be a college ‘senior’, the next you’re accepting a position titled Assistant Director. I have become someone. Shoot.
Adulthood smacks you right in the face. Don’t ya think?
I’m fortunate that I landed my current job while I was in grad school so I never had to do the whole job search/resume build/hey hire me people thing. But, I’m now looking to move back to my hometown, and that means finding a new job. Those people weren’t kidding when they talked about how difficult it is out there. I’ve got six+ years of experience with two degrees, and some places won’t even consider me for a phone interview. What gives?
Ohh right, I know what gives because I’ve been on the opposite end. Sometimes these ‘postings’ are just for show because they have a person in mind but due to a technicality, must do a search. Sometimes places want to hire their own so an outsider may never even have a shot.
If that’s the case, then how are we supposed to get hired? How are we supposed to know if a job posting is ‘real’ or not? How do we even have a chance?! I’ve chalked it up to a perfect combo of luck and timing. Both things that you cannot practice or acquire. Ya just have to be the lucky one.
I found a bit of luck myself because I have a phone interview this week. I’ve never done one before so this should be interesting. I’m hoping the group doesn’t hang up as soon as they hear a small child-like voice coming from their speaker.
I swear I’m an adult!
It’s a given that at some point after college you’ll hit a roadblock. Whether it’s a creative one, a life one, a relationship one, or an actual block in the road, it’s inevitable. There are a few ways people deal with such obstacles. There’s the ‘eat your feelings‘ approach, which I prefer via tacos or goldfish crackers. There’s the ‘shut the world out‘ approach, which can be done by not leaving the house for days and binge watching Are You Afraid of the Dark episodes because why not nostalgia. You’ve got the ‘I just need a good cry‘ approach, which should probably be done at the same time as your not leaving the house because have you seen yourself after a sobfest? That takes days to recover from, the same goes for the ‘drink away the problems‘ approach, because we’re old now and hangovers suck the life out of you for 72 hours.
Yes, yes we all deal with the roadblock in different ways, but knowing you’re not the only one seems to help me the most. Isn’t that why most of us blog about it anyway? So that we can read someone else’s words and think they get me. Or you can read your own words and think I’ve nailed this.
So, let’s pick up that traffic cone, or if you’re not that bold, take that detour. It’s a tow away zone for us to work this life out. It’s a four way stop for us to…ok I’m done now. Yield.
While it may look like I had a summer break, I really didn’t, just a blog break. Summer tends to be a pretty busy time in my office anyways, plus with the amount of time I spent complaining about winter, I wanted to be outside as much as possible.
But, another school year has begun and with that another year of me trying to get over post-grad life. Yes, I realize I should have done this by now as I’m nearing
the end my thirties, but it’s easier said than done when you work on a college campus.
So my question to you is, how have you gotten over college life? How have you made the transition to ‘working adult older person’?
Now that we’re in the clear from our teenage years, we can easily slip into judging that generation. We’re older. We undoubtedly know more. And we have garnered enough experience to say ‘kids these days’. Delinquents. Tweens. Small children.
We had to pay our dues though. I remember being in stores as a pre-teen/teenager and watching the employees stare me down, almost daring me to steal something. Adults expected us to do bad things and make stupid decisions. And there I was trying to make them see I was a mature, albeit still stupid, teen who could shop without the lifting.
Now that the tables have turned, I find myself doing the exact thing I hated as a kid. Ugh, the youths with their fangirling/boying(?) and lack of respect for anything. Ick, the children with their self absorbed pictures and lack of sense about the world. Bleh, high schoolers with their corrupt souls and youtube videos.
Maybe it’s because we had to endure the same things as a kid that have made us see them a certain way. I admit, I cringe and roll my eyes as I pass tweens in the store. So adult of me, I know. I should be focusing on the baby geniuses who currently spearhead their own business empires, develop charities, or are being recruited by NASA. The really great kids who will lead our country one day. Instead, I classify them as juveniles who will never truly know the song back that azz up like we did.
“A player hater flipper, yeah.”
After you’re accrued enough vacation days, and have been at your job long enough that it’s ok to take some days off, you can start planning a getaway. We’re no longer talking about cheap hotels, overcrowded rooms, and budget meals. We have ‘big kid’ jobs, therefore we can afford three-star hotels, one roommate, and the all-you-can-eat buffet.
The vacation also doesn’t necessarily mean raging clubs and funnels on the beach. College life is over. We can now vacay luxuriously with overpriced cocktails, pillowed loungers, and sophisticated e-books. Yes, somehow we went from twenty-something to middle age rather quickly. I know I want my peace and quiet rather than an all night bender. Yup, old. Times have changed.
Another thing that happens on our ‘new’ vacations is that we semi-constantly check our email. Yes, while we may have left work for a week, we may not have the bravado to fully remove ourselves from the job. Sure, I’ll check my email, but I won’t respond. Instead, I’ll sulk for moment about the work I have to do, complain for another moment about the person emailing me, and then take one final moment to say I won’t check the thing again. Repeat after one hour.
So, we may spend a bit more money than we intended for our summer vacations, at least we’ll be worry free for an hour or so. And what a happy hour that will be.