You know, I’m going to be really dramatic: Life decisions
are flashing before my eyes. I was asked by my brother’s friend Mitchell the
other day what I was going to do after graduation. The answer? I. Have. No.
Idea.
You think I’m kidding? Ha, wait ‘til I tell you. I’m typing
this up on a beautiful sunny day in Sacramento, California, with seven Callisto
tabs opened up on my Google Chrome browser. (Callisto is the UC Berkeley job
search website.) I’m choosing between applying to be a legal assistant or a
marketing intern or an art management fellow or something else entirely. Something
more to do with writing in the job description maybe. I am throwing mud on the
wall and you know the worst of it is that in order to apply somewhere, I need
to truly, sincerely convince myself. That’s a personal must. To break this
down, I’ll go: first, the company or firm has an opened position and the
publicity manager or secretary is trying to convince you to apply with a snazzy job description; second, I take it in
and then question the reason why we have jobs, why I am questioning this, and
why I have a need to want a job besides the money. (The answer? A bigger
purpose, ultimately.) So it comes down to the question of the stepping stones.
There are four or six—thousand—stepping stones—well, since
you visually only access the ones on a job search page, let’s limit the stones
to, oh wait, there are a few thousand
job results, never mind—in front of you. Life moves only forward so you must go
on one of them. But which one? The big spiked log from Temple Run 2 is suddenly
coming up from behind you and you realize the ground is trying to drag you
backwards and so you LEAP! (The equivalent: you apply to several jobs.)
Okay, you leap. That’s where I am, the moment before the
leap. But let’s say no acceptances come back and maybe you apply and apply
again—now I will switch back more consistently to first-person—and eventually
you, I, will hear back. If a position is on the table, is it enough to pay
rent? To stay in Berkeley or Oakland, let alone San Francisco? And enough for
living expenses per week? Per month?
Most of the friends I’ve talked to are going home to regroup
for a little while after they graduate. I have this as Plan C or D right now, I’m
not even sure which one. (Note to self: Man, you’ve gotta decide on the order
of your plans.) But again, life choices at the first stepping stone post-college
are flashing before my eyes and I have to take the leap forward to avoid being
crushed by that Temple Run 2 spiked log called Time-Rent-and-Living-Expenses.
Let’s get down to the bottom of this. I don’t know what to
do because I know of so many possibilities. Maybe that’s what multi-tasking and
college life do to you. For instance, I’m not just an English major and rhetoric
minor, but a leader on a Comparative Literature Symposium team and an academic
student journal; and writing a thesis on metafiction that takes up enough time
to be considered a part-time job. Or more, when the due dates are looming. (And
don’t forget interning and training for the SF June marathon.) Inevitably, most
of this will vanish into thin air, into the past with the label (hopefully) “accomplishment”
in two months but in my mind, the thesis—on top of the other responsibilities—will
be the challenge of my academic lifetime come to an end. Not in sadness or
nostalgia but as simply an end that opens up for something new, something only
vaguely related to what came before.
But what?
P.S. I just told my dad I don’t know what jobs to “audition”
for. I think my acting class is getting to me too.
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