I bet there's already loads of these blogs out there, hundreds of grumpy 20-somethings complaining about life after uni. But I need something to entertain me, ok? I'm bored. Bored of the job hunt and to be honest, a bit bored of life.
You spend all that time, counting down to the day of your last ever exam and then BANG. You're out into the real world. It's like uni builds you up so much for the real world but then after your last assignment or exam is over, you're thrown out into the world and expected to know what to do. So you might spend a few weeks celebrating and relaxing, but pretty quickly that little feeling creeps up on you. So slowly you probably don't even notice it. What am I going to do with the rest of my life? Unless you're one of those super lucky people who knows exactly what they want to do and how to get there, you're going to have this thought at some point.
I spent 3 years at uni, had the time of my life (hello cliche) and met the best people. But pretty much right from the beginning I knew that what I was studying wasn't what I wanted to do. But I carried on, battled through exams, assignments and the dreaded dissertation. I did well, came out with a 2:1 and made the parents proud. But all the way through this was a little nagging thought. What am I going to do after uni? I did the typical "me" thing to do and decided to run away from life. I found myself a job as an au pair and got on a plane a week after uni ended. I spent 2 months drinking, dancing, eating and enjoying life in Spain, mixed in with a bit of babysitting and pretending to be interested in the children. I came home with the next stage planned out, a job in Barcelona working in a school. As usual, things didn't go to plan and I changed my mind and within a week my new plan was to au pair in Paris for 10 months. So I packed my bags, jumped on the Eurostar and headed off for my new Parisian life. Within minutes of arriving I knew I'd made a mistake. I didn't want to be in a country where I couldn't speak a word of the language, in a flat the size of a cupboard and looking after children that couldn't understand me. To top it off the mum of the family was crazy. Like split personality shouting at me one minute, telling me how pretty I was the next minute kind of crazy. I lasted a week before I packed my bags (fitting 2 suitcases worth of stuff into one because the family had taken my other) and did a runner. That night I ended up in a hostel panicking about what I'd done, how I'd ended up in the middle of Paris on my own and not a clue what to do next. Luckily, the very friendly hostel barman sat me down with a drink at 6pm to cheer me up. I was still there at 3am, very drunk and very happy. Until the next morning when I woke up feeling like my head might explode, with an hour before my train left Gare du Nord. I literally jumped out of bed, got changed in the middle of a dorm with 13 other people in it and legged it to the station. Sweaty, hungover and tired, the life panic set in again. I made it to the train and 6 hours later I was home. Having to explain to everyone why I was home after one week when I should have been gone for nearly a year was depressing. The same pitying looks and the "but you could have lived in Paris!" comments started to grate away at my already fragile state.
But you know what, all through my time in Paris I'd had a lovely man friend to talk to, to cheer me up and promise me exciting things once I was home. So as much as it was depressing to be home, there was a bit of a silver lining. We dated and things went well. Too well I thought. Until the messages stopped and my "lovely" friend had moved on to the next person. Great. So I was home, my Paris plans had fallen apart, no job, no money, no exciting guy to keep me occupied. Perfect. Pretty much the straw that broke the camels back. The combination of the bad luck, disappointment, lack of money and no direction in life made me take to my bed and spend days in a miserable bubble of graduate sadness.
That pretty much brings me up to today. Sitting in bed with just the cat for company. My mum practically congratulated me for leaving the house on Monday. And even then it was only to take the dog round the park. This is not how graduate life was supposed to be. It was supposed to be exciting, full of promises, new things and new people. I spent my evening applying for jobs. Sainsburys, Wetherspoons and O2 were on my list today, not really where I thought I'd be heading. I got an email rejection from Boots today as well. How hard can it be to get a job there?
I look at the people that have come out of uni and know what they want to do, have walked straight into jobs or gone off travelling and I just think why can't that be me? I have no idea what to do next. I got an interview for another job in Barcelona, but I know that's just me running away from life again. I need to get on with things at home, I just don't quite know what yet. I went to a wedding at the weekend and of course, the top of everyone's list to ask me was "so what are you doing now you've finished uni?" I told them I was just enjoying some freedom and had some things lined up. Inside I cried and thought I literally have no idea.
We were having dinner this evening and I mentioned I needed to buy a new diary, my last one was an academic one that ran out last month, but then I had this awful thought. I have nothing to put in it. How depressing is that.
But hey, things could be worse. And as much as so far this blog makes me sound dull, depressed and like a no hoper, I like to think I'm not all bad. I was filling out an application form this evening and it asked "what is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you?" and I sat and had a little laugh to myself (hello crazy) about some of them. I went for getting locked in a car park underneath a hotel and being rescued by security. Missed out the fact I was so drunk I was sick in the lift on the way down and was drunkenly looking around for somewhere to sleep though. Not sure that would have given the best first impression.
You know what I think? I think we need to set up "graduate support groups" where we can all sit together, chant that things will get better and then go out, get horribly drunk and pretend to be students again. But for now I'll stick to my lonely grumpy blogging.
Buenos Noches x
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