Monday, May 25, 2009

Crossroads (Uni, not Britney)

I think I'm depressed.

I'm not, like, DSM-IV depressed. I'm just blue because I'm in this weird mid-twenties no-man's-land of things to do, and each decision seems like it'll send me down some irreversible path, including questions like, "should I shower today?" or "should I leave the house?" or "how many hours of DVD television can I watch without busting a blood vessel in my eye?" Job hunting seems insurmountable: what if I pick the wrong job, and instead of working as a writer/muse/mover/shaker, I end up waiting tables at Kelsey's for the next decade, slowly getting fatter and reading only romance novels? Hmm? It could happen.

I used to be all "pfft" towards people who didn't go to school, because it seemed like such a cop-out. I mean, university isn't for everyone, and not for the usual factors of lazy and/or stupid. Both of my Category A ex-boyfriends skipped school; one opted for chef's school instead, which rendered him ungodly attractive to a girl who likes to eat nice food. He wouldn't have needed a MA in something to make him happy or employable. He needed a spatula and hours in the kitchen. That's a type of bad-ass that I, even though I've busted my hump for last few years in a respectable (ish) school, can't duplicate.

In any case, the freakish and totally expected post-school letdown is only compounded by the fact that grad school is still flitting around my head like a butterfly. Some days, I can totally see myself capturing the rare and elusive Master's Degree, and sometimes, it flies away. Grad school seems like One Of Those Things these days: everyone's gunning for it. Most of my friends talk about "when the go back to school," which makes me feel both included and desperately freaked out by all other options. (Work, mostly. I'm freaked out by jobs.) (Oh, and spiders.)

Here's the rub: I'm smart. I'm a good writer, I'm verbal, I'm a good critical and creative thinker, and I'm decently organized. I like to work, especially at interesting and busy tasks. I have a wide array of passions and interests from which to choose when searching for my perfect job. To top it off, usually I'm fearless when it comes to trying anything else: new food, flirting with strangers, travelling. So why does the professional world (and spiders) leave me skittery?

In any case, the fact that John Mayer has remarked on this very moment in my life leaves me to belive that my friends and I aren't alone. But, while he went out and wrote songs about it, became filthy rich, and eventually dated Jennifer Aniston, I've been less productive with my time.

I think a lot of us - me, my friends, other recent and neargrads - need more time. I'm certainly not going to hit my stride until a couple years from now; I'm basically an overgrown high-school senior. How the hell am I supposed to know what do with my life? I'm comfortable with the idea that I might be in the 30s or 40s by the time I really get my job-life together. It'll give me time to learn how to bake. Staring at the ceiling fan, though less remunerative, is far less stressful on my soul. Besides, someone has to try on all my clothes every day...and I'm already there, so why not?


  1. I didn't know that you had a blog, but now I do, and I am pleased.

    I went to Crossroads at the movies just because my friend had free tickets, and I'm the kind of person who enjoys heckling things that 13 year-old girls like.

    I refuse to visit your John Mayer link.

    I should begin to stop beginning my sentences with "I".

    Animal Collective are good. Do you think so?


    Go to grad school. Maybe take a year off. I'm like you; I didn't feel even a tenth "grown up" when I finished my undergrad. I let myself enter the real world, I worked full time, I tried to write in my spare moments but found myself with nothing to say. Being 22? I needed experiences, as prosaic as that might sound.

    The time in between gave me some, the growing happened, and then I went overseas and there was more, despite the months spent in my red, red bedroom. It was worthwhile. And soon the Masters will be mine, all mine. And I feel better, more whole. Or getting there, at least.

    Do it.

    But give yourself some time to breathe first.

    (Go on, take a holiday in Australia.)

    And if my words don't inspire, try Jay-Z's: I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch.

  2. I don't know that I've ever heard any Animal Collective, come to think of it. And I saw Crossroads on TBS one day about six years ago, and reacted with exactly the combination of weirded-out and mirth that I was supposed to.

    On a side note: gGrad schools have things like "entrance requirements" that I'm not up to. Well, unless I want to go somewhere in, like, Appalachia.

    On a different side note (apparently this comment is a triangle): I might just take a holiday in Australia. I have nothing else to do with my life right now, right?

  3. I'm still three years away from that moment when U of T will let me go with that piece of paper that is intended to open a world of possibilites and I already have that feeling of "what the fuck am I doing and where the fuck is this leading me?"

    Grad school? Not for me. No way. Never. Ah hell, I've already started thinking about it. The curse of being an undergrad.

    Canadian Forces? Still the intention and I am slowly, but surely moving towards my goal of taking better care of myself and getting in shape for that. I figure a 4-5 year stint in the Canadian Forces will help give me that direction in life that so many of us undergrads lack.

    I highly recommend Australia. My cousin spent six months travelling and working around
    Australia, and loved every minute of it.

    As for the comment about that it might not be till you're in your 30s or 40s before you have a clear direction career wise, I think that is going to become another hallmark of this generation. Our average lifespans will likely be into the 80s and 90s, so we might as well get as much out of it as possible, eh? Rather than rush to find a career in our mid to late 20s, put in our 20-30 years, and retire.