“Adulthood” is an extremely nerve-wracking word for those of us leaving this beautiful campus in May. The expectation for most is that we’ll move to new cities, find jobs and begin the rest of our lives, leaving “the best four years of our lives” behind us. Sounds easy enough, until you start to consider the finicky details.
Your parents will start asking questions like, “What’s the plan for after graduation?,” “When do job interviews start?” and “You’re absolutely sure you’re graduating, right?” Not having answers to these questions is daunting, and — if your parents are similar to mine — not an option. With these big-picture questions comes one all-encompassing query: “Do I even know how to be an adult?”
Sure, I’ve had internships, I’ve worn dress pants and I’ve definitely interacted with adults before, but I’ve found becoming one is much more difficult than it looks. Even at this late hour, I still have a list of lingering worries about how to become an adult after graduation.
Small talk. How do I make small talk with other adults if I can’t ask about what majors they’re interested in or what residence hall they live in? These topics have been trusted, excellent conversation starters in any college setting. Countless awkward silences in college have been saved by griping about 8 a.m. classes or wondering if there really is a pool in the basement of Carmichael Residence Hall. (Spoiler: Your friends have been lying to you. There is no pool.)
Meeting new people. How am I supposed to find friends if I’m not automatically placed in a suite of eight awesome girls? College campuses consist of mostly 18- to 22-year-olds — people you’re bound to have something in common with. But in a city of millions of people of far more diverse ages and backgrounds, am I gonna have to resort to Tinder? Because I can’t go back there, y’all.
The dress code. Do adults have closets of interchangeable blazers and slacks they wear everyday? I imagine the closets of adults to look similar to Charlie Brown’s, except instead of racks of that same yellow T-shirt over and over again, it’s filled with black and blue blazers, penny loafers and a selection of briefcases. Maybe I just need to be a graphic designer or bass player so that I can keep wearing flannels and Converses every day.
Money, money, money. How do I file my taxes? What’s a W2 form? Should I be investing my money? Should I start a retirement fund? How much should I be paying for rent? Is $8 too much for this artisan doughnut with bacon in it?
Job qualifications. I’ve had jobs, leadership positions, and I did Dance Marathon one year, so clearly I’m super philanthropic. What in the world do I qualify for? I wish there was an app that could scan my LinkedIn page and come up with a list of potential jobs I could apply for.
That would save me plenty of time, which I’d use to do important things like making sure my eyebrows are “on fleek” and reading Larry King’s Twitter feed.
