Upon graduating from Lewis & Clark College last May, I had no idea what to do with my life. Throughout college, I was unable to plan more than a span of two weeks, so when graduation rolled around, I really needed to get it together. All I knew was that I wanted to be with Andrew, after four years of long distance, I knew we earned some time together. Sure, I wanted to travel the world, and I still do, but my “gap year,” really did help me to realize what I wanted in life.
I spent most of the summer at home in Hawaii with my family. Being the daughter of a flight attendant, I was able to take a few weekend trips to Las Vegas, San Antonio, New York, San Francisco, Oregon, LA, and New York, before making my big move to Indianapolis – where I was unemployed for four months.
During those four months, I never felt so degraded because it was the time that I put the most pressure on myself. I started applying for jobs in July, as soon as I found out that Andrew and I would be living in Indianapolis. I thought attaining a job would be easy. I had full confidence that I would get hired like that *snaps fingers.* I mean, I did everything I was supposed to do, I went to college, I got my Bachelors degree, I was competent and capable, why wouldn’t anyone hire me? Oh right, because everything I wanted to do required 3-5 years of experience. Well, how did these companies expect me to gain 3-5 years of experience within the two short months since I graduated?
Sure, I had an internship, and 2-3 years of experience from my work study job while in school under my belt. But does that count? No, not at all. Plus, I was in a new city, a place where no one has even heard of my college, with no connections. That wasn’t even the worst of it, I was still bumming off my parents and now my boyfriend, too. My self-esteem plummeted. I started to think that I went to college for nothing. I know, you all probably think I’m a drama queen, but it was a terrible state of mind to be in. I was also surrounded by engineering geniuses who had their lives together, and then there I was, out of the loop of every conversation.
Ok, enough of the pity party. In December, I (finally) got a job, working as an administrative assistant at a college. Responsibilities include dealing with difficult students, scheduling, answering phones/receptionist-type stuff, managing the bookstore, writing weekly newsletters, etc. I am so grateful to be employed and to be able to contribute to things like bills and buying groceries. But after the first month, (wow, that’s fast), I was over it. I thought to myself, no way am I going to survive a 9-5 lifestyle, and no way am I going to be here for long. I guess my subconscious was way ahead of me because during my time of unemployment I applied for graduate school. I was so much in the dumps that the only thing I knew I was good at was being a student, so why not go to grad school?
Throughout the time at my job, awaiting to hear back, I found myself wishing and praying harder and harder that I get accepted. I figured out that journalism was really what I wanted to pursue. Like I said in my previous post, journalism has been chasing me around since middle school. Literally, I’d try to veer away to a different career path, but I always found myself coming back to journalism. I always thought that I wouldn’t make enough money doing journalism, so I avoided it. That’s no longer important to me. For the couple of months that I’ve been at my job, I’ve had time to work on and expand my blog, and really think about what I wanted out of life. Yes, I want to write. But I want to be taken seriously as a journalist, and I’d like to be more than just another blogger. I aspire to write about more than “10 things you should know before jetting off to Siena,” I would really like to get down to the nitty gritty of cultures and write about their politics, education systems, issues, and then of course the beautiful wonders each place has to offer.
Good thing I seem to be on my way. As my travel mug says, Keep not settling.