8.18.2005 – Clean your room

18 08 2005

It’s not so much a request as a demand. The same demand that plagues me every morning (or is it afternoon?) since finishing college. “If you’re not going to do anything in this house, at least do that,” my parents say.

They’ve been saying something like it since spring break. Since the dawn of my inevitable unemployment. Unemployment. It’s the most terrible yet truthful word haunting many other college grads like myself. When they say I’m doing nothing, I actually am. Sending out several copies of my resume along with several specialized and constantly revised copies of cover letters. Each carrying the same essential message: Hire me. Please!

It’s already August. I’ve already turned 23. The summer’s almost over. In two days I can count two months since I was supposed to be officially done with college. Technically, it’s only been a month and a half, or a little bit more. Officially, technically — it’s almost all the same to me. Days melt into hours, hours into days, days into weeks…etc… you get the picture. All these saved copies of past sent resumes with filled out pre-applications, they pile up in my hard drive. I’ve got folders within folders. Within more folders, that I can’t remember all the abbreviations and labels for. I’ll find a folder labeled “P”. What the hell does “P” stand for? I double-click on the icon. Oh, it’s a storage for all the companies I’ve applied to that start with the letter P. And then some. But what about the other P companies that I’ve seen in other folders. Oh, all these were from my internship applying days. Days that are long gone, and I kind of wish they’d be back again.

Do you ever find yourself almost missing college? I miss the people, I sort of miss the drama, I miss the classes, I miss a few instructors/professors. I miss the social life. I miss the food (it was always an adventure, looking for food), perhaps I should rephrase, I miss the adventure of looking for something edible or the mad scramble to scrounge up enough money to pay/tip the delivery guy. I miss the dorm life. I miss the SAC Basement Crew. I miss going to the gym and pretending like I actually knew how to do something.

That’s the other thing I fill my days and nights with. The days and nights that don’t distinguish between one another anymore. I sleep after 4 or 5 in the morning and rise well past noon. Each day feels the same. Send out more applications. Eat. Sleep. Reminisce. Reminisce with friends who have held a job for far longer than you.

Those are the lucky ones. What happened to my luck? Maybe it’s some kind of karma on a grand scale that I don’t know about yet. I don’t have an explanation. I just know that it is. And it’s making me have to clean my room.



8.17.2005 – Egads!

17 08 2005

Yes. I’m here again.

This is that obsessive bit of my personality manifesting again. I could easily post this to my LiveJournal; however, I feel I need to regain what little control I had over my usage of correct spelling, punctuation, and grammar. Unfortunately, since I don’t intend to make writing my life, I don’t forsee this control reappearing with any impact any day soon.

I thought I’d take some time to explain my blog’s title. If it seems remotely familiar to anyone, it should. Check this out: http://www.quarterlifecrisis.com

Some years ago, a couple of women realized that a lot of 20-somethings had similar gripes about life after college, or just the 20-something life in general. Everyone had some form of the same problem no matter their geography or socioeconomic standing. They wrote a book that now has a sequel… I’ve always been enamored with the thought of making my contribution to the explanation of this phenomenon — lookit, ma! I gotta blog-thingy!

Three years into it, less than 4 months out of college, and I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life. I should really get the first book, it would help me to organize this entry.

I’m in that limbo. That aggravating job-hunting limbo where I’m still trying to cling to the last vestiges of carefree student-hood and at the same time reaching for the independence of full-blown adulthood. In a few crass words, this sucks. Sucks big time.

Sending out resume after resume, each coupled with their own personalized cover letter, each being sent out with the hope that at least one of them will catch the eye of some anonymous HR employee. Which would eventually lead up to be being hired. Complete with benefits.

That’s another fixation of my life now. With the loss of the haven I’ve known for the last 21 years as school (yes, I’m including pre-school on this), there went my medical benefits too. I’m always on the search for the next thing in health insurance for the uninsured. Lucky me, I get to rely on excellent genetics for keeping me out of that sterile waiting room. And the last time I got sick, sadly was 5 short months ago, I was able to fight it off with some good eats and a strong mind. For some reason, I’m thinking I shouldn’t always rely on pure luck to get me through a vicious attack from some microbial scum. Those vaccines help. And you usually need insurance to get a shot of something. Or to get an x-ray.

My college has been chasing me around all summer asking me to file a claim for an x-ray done on my ankle. I call the insurance company, who tells me I need a bill. The hospital claims they sent the bill. So why, in my anal-retentive filing of such things, am I completely unable to find this bill of which they speak so highly of? I can find an enormous pile of “Please fill out this claim” letters. But no bill. I think if I got a bill, I’d remember getting it. Those things are scary and never meant to be forgotten. So, since getting that x-ray in early April, I have recieved no less than 10 “Please fill out this claim” letters and zero (0)(zilch)(nada)(no) hospital bills. Sneaky sneaky. It’s not appreciated.

Just watch, I’ll check the mail tomorrow, and I’ll get my 11th “Please fill out this claim” letter.

Damn it all.