No longer a bum, not yet a corporate slave

Dearest Friend,

I am this close from graduating and bidding undergraduate life good riddance, but somehow I’ve unconsciously chosen the past few weeks to feel anxious about shit. Pardon the vulgarity, but my vocabulary fails me in my attempt to find a more dignified word for the web of emotions and conflicting thoughts I am juggling. I’m not even entirely convinced they’re not a simple offshoot of hormones. I don’t want to claim that I AM graduating – not when my senior thesis isn’t hardbound yet. (I’ve nicknamed it Zwischy, by the way, although its full title is Zwischen Himmel und Hölle: Eine feministische Analyse der PARADIES-Trilogie von Ulrich Seidl aka ‘I picked apart three Austrian movies I liked and tried to say what was wrong with them from a feminist’s point of view’.) I don’t want to expressly claim I’m getting out of university in a month or so because the last time I said I was going anywhere, my moving plans got cancelled. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m NOT graduating yet.

I have, however, been praying to my ancestors for the past year or so to please let me graduate in June 2015. I also can’t even remember how many dozens of eggs I’ve brought to God knows how many convents in an effort to get the Heavens and the Fates to favor me.

My mother and I used to joke that by taking my second degree in German, I was living the life of an educated bum. Technically, I was just wasting my time – but that’s another story I’m not very comfortable discussing in detail. It doesn’t take a fortuneteller to figure out that after my ‘transitioning’, I’ll be joining the millions of corporate slaves in this outsourcing paradise called the Philippines. Yes, I do have plans – which I’m never going to share with anyone whose tears I haven’t seen yet – and I hope I manage to pull them off properly. I’m behind, way behind, but the good news is that I think I have direction. Cue the story about the bamboo shoot, which hides underground for the first five years of its growth before shooting up at an alarming speed to reach for the heavens.

Cheers to my final weeks as an educated bum. Hello, frictional unemployment.

A.

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