The scariest thing to think about as a student is life after college. So many questions run through my head on a daily basis questioning my future career, boyfriend, house, money. I question anything and everything. As college students we tell ourselves we have so much time, and we do, but not as much as we think. College flies by. Yesterday I moved into my freshman dorm and tomorrow I will graduate with a degree. The job market is a battlefield and it seems the most ambitious will get the job, but I am just so tired. The amount of effort and planning it takes to research internships that might possibly lead to a career is exhausting.
Although one day I would love to buy the yellow beach house on the corner of Ocean Ave and 15th street, and I want a big house in the woods with a big family and two dogs keeping me on my toes, what comes before that is what I am most excited for. While I am petrified to be out in the wild having to worry about bills and careers and where the heck I am going to get a car or when I’ll get a boyfriend, I cannot wait to be in my twenties.
I picture a little brick apartment in the suburbs of New York City with a bedroom for me and a bedroom for my girl friend. There’ll be a little garden out on our balcony with my favorite purple wildflowers and white ones for her. We’ll cook dinner in a tiny kitchen with a big window giving us a peek of the street life down below. We’ll complain about walking the flights of stairs to our apartment, but we refuse to step inside the sketchy elevator. We’ll walk or take the subway everywhere since I haven’t actually driven a car in years, and I don’t think either of us remember how. Looks like we won’t be going on any road trips any time soon. Our paths won’t cross often since she is busy working her way up at the biggest marketing firm in the city and I’m always looking for my next story. On the occasion where we have a glass of wine together or meet up with our friends for brunch, I remember why I moved here in the first place – to live a Sex and the City life, without the sex.
I picture a job as a journalist writing weekly columns about the city. I’ll write about societal norms in a place like NYC, dating in our 20s, and columns all about women. Once in a while I’ll write about bigger issues in the city, but the subject of every article will be us: my girl friends. I’ll go to bars and restaurants, work events, go on dates, talk to strangers, but most importantly, I’ll go out with my girls. My friends will be the inspiration for every column I write, and their struggles in New York City will inspire my writing.
I won’t have a boyfriend because the men in New York City aren’t looking for a relationship, and neither am I. I’ll probably get my heart broken once or twice putting my hopes in guys who would never go for a relationship. I’ll play little games to figure out what is going on in their heads and later write about it in my column. I’ll have plenty of money for the single life with enough left for my weekly splurge on a new pair of heels. People will know who I am but not enough for my privacy to be interrupted. I’ll meet famous people who will invite me to parties, and I’ll go, but only as an excuse to buy a new outfit. I’ll paste on a smile while I judgingly gather the details of their relationships, to be later discussed in my column. In the process, I’ll question whether all the women in this city are settling, and I’ll leave happily single. I’ll try new things, save up money, and have a blast. I’ll be a regular at a few coffee shops where I’ll order my favorite caramel cold brew and write my columns. My friends and I will go on double dates, Tuesday brunches, and on Saturdays we’ll go to the morning markets and the hottest places to be at night, all within walking distance of course.
Eventually, maybe around 30, I’ll find that the men my age have matured and decide it’s time to find a husband. I’ll settle down to start my family and take out a mortgage for a house with a picket fence. But in my twenties, I plan on living an unpredictable life with my friends in the city that never sleeps.