This was not simply a pouty-pants day. I didn’t want to get out of bed, I started emotionally eating, drinking, and found it nearly impossible to do any necessary tasks.
This is the first time I have ever truly lived alone, and I just happened to get stuck with a city that has been declared safer than only 15% of cities in America.
I am poor, I am discouraged, but I am stumbling through these first steps into the world with mountains of bills and a yoga mat with which to calm my anxiety.
Can someone please tell me how students are supposed to find time to get two years of professional experience in their field while attending college full-time and likely holding down at least one part-time job?
As soon as reports of my fellow classmates securing jobs began to roll in, I discovered something else about adult life. Nothing I did in college mattered—not my major, not my degree, and pretty much nothing I even learned (especially since I went to a liberal arts school).
Everyone fails to mention that while you may have pulled your fair share of all-nighters studying for finals and gotten really good grades, everyone else is doing the same thing.
Can you even imagine the anxiety these city workers must be feeling right now? How will they support themselves and their families? How will they pay their bills?
We might seem fortunate, us young folks, because we’re swimming in expensive and glamorous digital gadgetry. But we’re missing something big. Something my parents’ generation enjoyed as a whole.