It’s between flower pressing and collage making. If I’ve ever felt more like a home-schooler, it’s now. I’ve been sitting here, in my office-made-room on my futon-mattress-on-the-floor-made bed, racking my brain for hobbies to take up this summer. As a recent college graduate, I don’t know if this is what I imagined life after my last finals would be. Those who either have a job or just feel like they’re in a better professional position than you have been telling us “this is the worst time to be graduating college,” and “good luck finding a job in this economy.” Well thank you very much everyone. I mean, we didn’t pick to graduate in 2009, but they’re all acting like we got to choose whatever year we wanted or something. Like we guessed the wrong door and ended up with the bad economy.
Well now it’s time to make the most of my situation. Hence, flower pressing or collage making. I’ve already embarked on the take a picture a day for a year project. But, like my friends reminded me, that takes like two seconds to do each day. So another option could be to try out for Joseph’s Technicolor Dream Coat production. I’ll probably keep on looking.
I work in downtown Seattle. I take the bus, which is probably the highlight of my day, when I get to pretend like I’m an adult, and go to work for a city councilman. I’m not really into politics, if anyone is really into them. But I’ve already learned quite a lot of important and relevant information. For example, I know what percentage of tax dollars goes into which fund and I now know the difference between the police and the sheriff. While this is all interesting, I’m still deciding whether or not I’m cut out to work from nine to five every day. Although my dad recently reminded me that when I’m a mom I have to work twenty four hours a day seven days a week, so I’d better enjoy my time working nine to five while I can. So I will. Thanks dad.
I work with a few women. Maybel*, who sounds like she should be 72, but she’s really 32. Some say she's a bulldog wearing lipstick. But I just say she can make grown men cry but at the same time is a "mother bear" to her girls at work. Christy*, 25, who is that driven communications director who moves a million miles an hour making your brain work a few steps ahead. She could also pass as a J.Crew model. And then there's Janie*, the other intern. Now Janie is probably 100 lbs, sponsored by Cute Clothes Every Day, and makes me feel like a manatee. She doesn’t mean to, she’s a really nice girl. In fact, we’ve become really good friends this summer since we see each other every day. But that doesn’t cancel out the fact that all the guys in the office seem to find ways to talk to her and joke around while I’m sitting at my desk, making labels, thinking of how I relate to Marla Hooch. The only satisfaction I get through the day is knowing I could break her legs if I tapped her and that I’m fearfully and wonderfully made.
After work, my routine is shedding the business casual clothes, which isn’t me anyways, and quickly get into my so-called uniform: a dirty but arguably comfortable Boston Celtics t-shirt that I got for five dollars at Modell’s, and big comfy shorts that my mom wants to throw away. Come to think of it, my mom wants to throw away most of my clothes. I try to remind her while we’re playing tug of war with a not-so-white tank top that this is just my style and I’ll buy another one and then I’ll throw it away.
My attitude right now? It’s good. Better than I thought it would be considering the lack of friends and the fact that both my sisters go on dates quite a bit, leaving me to scrounge around the kitchen for something to eat because I have negative money in my bank account. But you know what I decided today? I’m excited to be single. Seriously. Sure, it’d be nice to be liked by a guy or to hug someone once in awhile, but I honestly get excited thinking about what’s going to happen next in my life. That’s why I’ve decided to take a picture a day for a year. I have absolutely no idea where I’m heading and I don’t want to forget how I get there along the way.
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