3pm Friday Afternoon: While most gainfully employed folk at the age of (nearly) 23 are at WORK, I chill with my mom and eventually embark on a multi stop roadtrip to various grocery stores in the area. Quel excitement. Somewhere between the merlot and the shiraz I get a friendly poke in the back. On any other day, perhaps when i’m not wearing crappy clothes, or broke, I really wouldn’t mind bumping into him….here come the barage of questions
“What are you up to?”
“You gradutated last year, right?”
“Are you working now?”
“Grad school?”
“How about working for your dad?”
In my head I see and hear the answers all in order nothing, yeah, no, nope, can’t. but instead I turn my head and pretend that I was distracted by something, revert my gaze back to him, and fire off as many excuses as I can handle. “Oh, keeping busy, not much, hangin out lookin for jobs, travelling, bullshit, lies, bullshit, bullshit.”
So, what types of jobs are you interested in???
Ah, here is where the lying really gets deep. I think I fool myself sometimes. “Oh, finance.” Period, end of story, don’t ask me anymore questions thanks. The truth is that i’d rather be poor and write feature stories for the local paper than wear a skirt suit and LIVE in a cubicle, chained to my desk and enslaved by Microsoft Excel. I say something different to each person. I DONT want to work in finance, really…and while public relations, sales, marketing, and advertising are all very interesting….i’d prefer crawling through sand storms, clad in a sexy kevlar suit, huddling over my pen and paper.
In reality….
-I wake up at the crack of dawn and go for a run
-I’m working on an internet startup with my EX boyfriend (hate that connotation, ex….sure…he isn’t my boyfriend anymore, but we aren’t at eachother’s throats)
-I hunt for jobs in my pajamas from the comfort of my laptop for at least 2 hours
-Force myself to eat breakfast
-Wait for my friends to get off of work or out of class
-Impose, impose, impose
-Charge gas and all other goods to the amex
-Work out using my parents’ “work-out-machine relics”….a 20 year old stationary bike, weights older than me, and a second hand rowing machine.
- Try to stay positive! Yeah, sure.
- The phone rings, and I don’t answer…fearful that it might be a family member who-before requesting to speak with one of the parentals-interrogates me about my future plans.
