Future generations will read about me in their history books. One of the unfortunate many who graduated college to find that no jobs were waiting for them with open arms. We find strength in blaming the economy and Facebook stalking our colleagues in miserableness.
"Grandma, did you really move back in with Great Grandma and Grandpa when you were 22? That's, like, a grown-up."
Yes, dear. I packed up my cozy Gainesville apartment and moved back into my bubble-gum toned bedroom. I left my friends, most of which were still in undergrad (lucky bastards), to live amongst the St. Cloud folk. It's not so bad for the most part. My roommates are pretty cool. They go to bed early and work most of the day. My dad and I watch "Star Trek: The Next Generation" every night at 8 pm, a highlight of my days.
So basically, I apply for jobs and stare at the boob tube all day. I peruse Craigslist, pretending to look at the vague, sketchy descriptions that pass for "job openings" but usually getting sidetracked on "best of" and "missed connections." I'm sure that hot emo kitty from the Taco Bell drive-through thought about you all day too!
I've been planning on starting this blog for quite a while now. Today is the day. GET EXCITED*.
*"get excited" is a sorority mantra repeated often, often when talking about something not terribly exciting but that everybody has to show up to. Although I am officially in the oh-so-sad category of sorority alumna, this phrase has been too hammered into my vocabulary to eliminate just yet. But this really is exciting. Cross my heart.