In this week’s installment, third year Natalie talks about the dreaded post-graduation world that we all secretly fear. Recognise how she is feeling? Comment below and let us know.
Since my last angry column, I initially decided that I’d focus on the positives this week… But as usual, life (and the World Health Organisation) decided to conspire against me, so brace yourselves for another grumpy rant. At this point I would say go and make yourself a cup of tea and a bacon buttie, but apparently according to WHO, Britain’s favourite pig based snack will KILL you… making me officially a dead man walking. I mean seriously, with the amount of bacon I eat I have no idea how I’m still alive. My DNA is 30% pork. I practically sweat bacon grease.
“Britain’s fave pig based snack will KILL you”
But I digress, this week I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m going to do after graduation. The one thing I think most near-graduates dread is the age old question: to move back in with the parents, or to travel the world? On the surface the answer seems simple – pissing off to Australia or Thailand for a year is a great way of avoiding adulthood, but it’s only an option for people who actually have money (and who didn’t spend their entire student loan on beef flavoured Monster Munch… and bacon) or for those care-free weirdos who spend every penny they have on their ticket and just ‘see what happens’.
Well, I’ll tell you what will happen. Day one you get robbed at a beach party and are forced to work as a bar tender or a surf instructor, only to discover that Australia is basically the same as England, just hotter and with a lot more surfers and weird accents; essentially, Cornwall. What I’m trying to say is, don’t live at home, don’t travel abroad – just move to Cornwall. At least then, when you finally have a breakdown and realise how much you need Mummy and Daddy, it’s only five hours and a dirty coach ride, sat next to a screaming child, to get home.
“Don’t travel abroad – just move to Cornwall”
For a while I also considered volunteering in the Marshall Islands (look them up), helping to teach people in relative poverty to learn English. But alas, I soon recalled the last time I went without WiFi: one hour in I’d written my will and by the second hour a note to my parents beginning: ‘if you’re reading this it means I’ve given up on waiting for Family Guy to buffer, and I’ve decided to end it all. Why didn’t I go with Virgin? P.S. delete my search history…’ So I’m guessing volunteering probably isn’t for me.
One thing I hate about my fellow third years is how together they are. Half of my course have already got jobs and internships lined up, leaving me to pick up the scraps – I’m talking internships at KFC headquarters or a management job at Pound World. As great as it is that graduates these days are intelligent and bubbly, it makes things very difficult for the rest of us lazy people. At this point I’m seriously considering a masters just so I can delay my entering into the ‘real world’ of full time work, taxes, and oh my God, did I mention full time work?
So after another week of pondering my future existence, the only thing I’m certain of so far is:
- Bacon sandwiches will kill you.
- The only internship available is at KFC.
- My travelling plans to Australia will only end badly.
- Australia is basically just Cornwall.
- I’m helpless without my ‘rents.
- BACON SANDWHICHES WILL KILL YOU!
Image: Adon Buckley via Flickr