That’s the things about coming home….
by Amber - October 24, 2008 10:23am
It really is a popular option these days for college kids to actually spend a year or more living at home with mom and pop before scooting out into the real world to their own place and their own utilities/cable/internet bills.
I didn’t feel so bad about coming back home considering that I had spent three months out and was coming home because I wasn’t making the stack that I had been promised. Not to mention I had been living in Nebraska – land of cowboys, Job Chamberlain and the Huskers.
Within my first week back, I had obtained my second part-time employment gig at a gym in the area that I will from this point on out refer to as “Workout Land.” I have been training the last two weeks to be the weekend front desk person and figured it would not only be a good way to make some moolah, but also meet some people my age and hear about what is going on in and around the bubbling metropolis of Worcester.
I have enjoyed myself so far, made some pals and have certainly gotten in some quality people watching. That could be creepy, but trust me, watching members’ weird workout habits like running an elliptical at marathon-qualifying pace while planning your wedding on your cell phone is more hilarious and puzzling to watch than you may think.
Back to my point, it’s just part-time work. I suppose it could be like a career move if I wanted to become the manager of some Workout Land in the future, but that’s not really my thing. And who is gonna complain about making extra money? Not me. That’s for damn sure.
So picture me, bopping around at Workout Land, checking in members, cleaning tanning beds and the such, it’s not as if I really have any other pressing matters I should be taking care of instead. Along comes some person, any random person – they could be an old friend of my parents, or the parent-of-my-little-sister’s-best-friend’s-ex-boyfriend who I have seen at the last like four or five family Christmas parties.
This same person who had never really been able to leave me alone enough to my cans of Bud Light without asking me the same dumb questions about school, so that she could then in-turn brag about her precious boys who were, at that time, enrolled at snotty little private business colleges in the state. If it weren’t bad enough that they were St. John’s alumns, they were also frat daddies. Excellent.
The same woman is a member at Workout Land and I say hello to all members, that is my job. But I see a face that I recognize, an I’m willing to chat.
“Oh, so this is what you’re doing?” she says.
“Yeah, I’m ditching my Bachelors degree to work for just over minimum wage cleaning your sweat off the same treadmill on the reg.” I replied.
Just kidding, I didn’t say that. After briefly explaining my employment history in a three-second spot, she nodded and hit me with “So you’re living at home?”
I have come to referring to my childhood room as “my apartment” basically to humor myself as I rehash the details to every person who I remotely know who asks these same questions of me. Every. Day.
It happens more often than I wish it would, and to be honest, I’m getting tired of it. I’m starting to think I might offer people a few different responses to test them.
Haven’t you heard? I was named the mayor or Worcester?
I joined the Sharks, duh!
I’m pregnant.
OK, so the last option might only be funny to me. Then my parents would get wind, and sickly enough, would become quite infatuated with the idea that they were going to be grandparents and turn my apartment into “the baby’s room.” Ugh.
Moral of the story is, unless you are in your twenties, don’t ask all sorts of question of a recent college grad where answering you truthfully might send them into depression. We all wish we were living in some great studio in Boston or were chilling with Paris Hilton in NYC while working some killer job 9-5 like Lauren Conrad on the Hills where you do nothing.
Don’t make us relive the fact that we’re living at home. Don’t make jokes about how the market sucks. We know all these things, we just graduated and have been scouring job listings for the last nine months and have put in apps at every fast food joint in a 25 mile radius hoping someone calls us back with a full-time spot so we can at least get health insurance.
Instead, you could say everyone’s doing it and you will buy us a beer the next time you see us at the Blue Plate. Alcohol – now that is a reference that any recent college grad can understand and appreciate.
On a positive note, I went to the Patriots game this past Monday. I enjoyed the game until some guy in the row in front of me wouldn’t stop telling me how getting married cost more than having a baby (He knew because his “girl” was preggo). I told him I was there to watch Wes Welker, not host a TLC debate.
I also got my picture with the viking guy who Randy Moss jumped on. These are the highlights that my life consists of right now.