Saturday, June 25, 2011

Office Life Begins

OK, so you were bound to find out eventually. I have a job. Be it ever so humble, its a job--a paid job--in writing and social media. I Can't really complain, because at least I no longer look like this:


But for some reason, as a a post-grad recession-rejection, I (in addition to many others stuck in my boat) tend to romanticize the idea of being hired for a real job. I.e., to become a 9-5 office type where people walk around in collared shirts, take 1 hour lunch breaks, drink excessive amounts of coffee, and feign some  importance. 

This type existence does have its perks--namely bragging rights and happy hour--but there are a few things I'm learning the hard way. They are as follows:

1. Sitting at a desk is hard work. As an athlete I always thought I had a pretty good idea of what should be considered strenuous, but this is a whole new ballgame. By the end of the day my tailbone hurts and I'm ready for comfort food, beer, and bed, preferably before 10:30pm. I've lately been known to have designated quiet time in my post-work, pre-bed hours. Talking, it seems, is just too much for me after a day of little verbal communication and an abundance of words typed on a screen. And going out after work--well, that's asking a lot. If I'm going to put that much effort into being social, you better be REALLY important. 

2. Coffee is the new cocaine. I'm not a fan of drugs myself, but I'd say cocaine is probably the pick-me-up drug of choice on college campuses. I assume that since doing drugs in the workplace doesn't fly quite as easily as it did at our alma maters, a very wise corporate employee years ago invented the workplace coffee machine to replace the void left by this discrepancy. Thus, coffee becomes the workplace drug. Literally. Not only is it necessary to start your day with a Venti from Starbucks, it is absolutely essential to take a mid-morning coffee break, and perhaps hit up your favorite barista during lunch for round two (or would it be round three?). I for one have found the whole thing quite addictive, and am sorry to admit that my day is fully 100% better when started with a Skinny Carmel Latte--iced, with soy milk--from Starbucks. And if I'm going to be social after work, we better make round two a double shot. Which brings me to point three...

3. Time to say goodbye to my booming social life.  With an eight hour work day fueled by drinking coffee in an office chair, there is little time for much else. For me, this causes free time to become a battle between physical vs. social self-preservation. Physical preservation means working out at 5AM (hello extra Starbucks run) or 6PM (goodbye remnants of social life). Because lets be real--if I'm up early enough to exercise before work, I'm way too tired to socialize after work (unless we're talking happy hour...what a glorious invention). And if I'm at the gym after work, well, there's just no way I'm going to be refreshed, fed, and presentable until at least 8:30. As discussed earlier, this is frighteningly close to bed time. And really, what woman wants to shower and wash her hair twice every day? I may be high maintenance, but that's too much even for me. The solution to all of this? Time to become BFF with my parents, who are conducive to not only good meals, but interesting conversation and early bedtime. Winning.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Still Here.


I should humbly thank my 3 blog followers that have recently encouraged me to update this--not that I haven't wanted to. But its a busy life being a dead-end college grad, you know. I do, however, have some exciting news to report. Wait for it...

Just kidding, I can't tell you yet. It would blow my cover or jinx my luck, and I'm not about to do either of those just yet.

Exciting news aside, the truth still remains: this is not a good time to be a college grad--with a job, without a job, or anywhere in between. And despite some potential changes, I'm very much still having a quarter-life crisis. Side note: I was somehow under the foolish assumption that I created this term (quarter-life crisis). This is frighteningly false. People are actually writing about this shit all over the place. But I digress.

It has officially been over one year since I graduated from college with my prestigious sociology degree. Many of my post graduate conversations sounded something like, "Sociology? What are you going to do with a sociology degree?" With me replying in my head, Hell if I know, and then continuing on with some five minute monologue about all my potential plans. Those were some good times.

The tune of my potential self-esteem destroyers has changed a bit as I've become more of an adult and less of a recent college grad. Now everyone just wants to know if I'm going to grad school, and when I'm going to move out, get married and have babies. Sababa.