Because I’ve officially graduated with my Masters in Publishing.
Which is going to be super, duper useful. Do you hear me, Publishing Industry? IT WILL BE USEFUL. (… it probably won’t be that useful).
That being said, this is a party post.
… Kind of. It’s also sort of a continuation of My Future is Imaginary. Because now that I no longer have the “but I’m a student” argument to make about avoiding real life, it’s kind of hit really hard and really fast.
Cue the that’s what she said.
So, yes: Party party party party all the time all the time. Because, now is the time to do it. I’ve been an official graduate for about three days now. Mere moments after the ceremony I steadfastly resolved to be the antithesis of productivity for at least a week.
This was a lie. It did not happen. Mostly. It did not happen.
… I can’t remember what my point was there. But at least I got to use a picture of Andrew W.K. He makes me feel better about myself.
So, I have a masters. And now there’s real life to be lived! And with the idea that my future is imaginary and that I don’t really have any where to go professionally, I’m kind of at a loss with what to do. I believe the phrase ‘so fucking stagnant’ covers the feeling admirably.
With that same sense of stagnation being felt in many industries, there are a lot of us (in the current entry level generation) that are feeling this way. We’re getting more and more frustrated, more and more boxed in, and less and less likely to think that we can do anything about it.
I know, I said I wanted to be unproductive and that I couldn’t do it. Because I’m pretty sure I’m overcompensating for the lack of movement in my realliferealjob by starting stupid shit on the internet that’s going to take up creative time. Because at least this way, I’m saying something. Right? Okay, I’m not sure I’m actually saying anything, but whatever. Fuck you, this is my blog. I do what I want. And you know what, I’m not sorry.
You get me, Snoop.
You get me.
So, the real question is, now that real life is here, with real responsibilities (ahem, loans) and real derailments (ahem, career) and real consequences (… I don’t have an ahem for this, but I know they’re around), what do I do with myself? Where’s the drive? Where’s the purpose? …
This sounds like a Matchbox 20 song. Or a My Chemical Romance song? I don’t even know. It certainly sounds like someone whining to music. Right? Right. I hate that I’m having twenty-something angst right now. It’s brought about a huge bout of self loathing, just so we’re all aware. But then, this is my so-called life, son. Except in my drama, nobody leans great. Sigh.
But seriously. On the upside (and the downside), while I do hate that I’ve lost the confidence in knowing where I want to be and what I want to be doing… I no longer feel so tied to my career path that I don’t think I can be adventurous. Earlier today, I actually had a serious conversation about moving to Europe. Like, in the we-could-really-do-this kind of way. Which is simultaneously awesome and terrifying because it means that a) I don’t think I’d really care about quitting this job right now and b) … I could fucking really do it. Kick ass.
… This whole post was incredibly self serving, idec.