“One-ah Those Days”

Moving back in with the parents after college, you run the risk of falling into a rut. A rut of epic proportions.

I’ve fallen clear into said rut, and there’s no daylight in sight. You know those individuals who’re 30 and still in their parents’ basement? This is how it begins. Right here.

I’ve been trying with varying degrees of effort to find gainful employment over the past two months. Had an interview with a local paper. It’s been three weeks. They’re “still looking over applicants.” Considering the would-be co-workers and managing editor I met, I’m not too broken up over not hearing back. Shitty pay. Besides, I can’t imagine a full-time job where the bulk of work is copy-editing.

But otherwise, writing jobs are pretty scarce around these parts. I could work somewhere that has nothing to do with writing. And delivering pizzas seems like my best prospect at this point. But what would that say of the four years I spent at college?

None of the local pizza places are hiring, and I’m not going to commute 20-30 miles just to deliver pizza all night.

I think I’ve said it before, but I’ll repeat. I miss college. The academic pursuits. Being forced to read, write, and think. Nobody thinks enough. Believe me: I didn’t think much in college, but it was loads more than my primary exercises today. Cursing at the TV, broadcasting triangulating Democratic presidential hopefuls or our Fearless Leader blundering through another scripted speech.

The writing in college – whether for class or publication.

My peers, full of prospects. They were decent people. More decent than most. Even the college Republicans, god bless their black souls.

Living alone. Or with a few housemates. Most of all – living away from the parental units. Why can you only take so much of your relatives before they drive you bat-shit crazy?

I didn’t mind the summer months leading up to now. I autocrossed. I lounged.

It makes economic sense. I don’t pay rent. Food is free. I pay for gas, but at the end of the month, who pays the credit card? If I got a job, I could concentrate on paying off my student debt. I could also blow significant money on go-fast parts for my car. Gee, I might even be able to obtain health insurance, and get that blood work my doctor ordered months ago.

But once I get a job, what’s the first thing I’m doing? Blowing the fuck outta Dodge. There goes the gravy train. But any shred of sanity I can salvage is worth it in the long run.

Better to toil in poverty than loll in the womb that is your parents’ daybed.