It Started with Soup

Yesterday, I went out to a light dinner with a friend of mine. Her back-and-forth lifestyle from London to here meant I rarely got to have this sort of face-to-face conversation, and it was nice to actually sit at the same table with her in the same time zone in the same country.

We decided to meet at Panera. I don't know why, maybe I'm just too much of a chicken, but I always get the same exact thing every time. The tomato soup in a bread bowl. It's tasty as all get out, warms you right up on a chilly day, and you can eat the bowl! Okay, no one else ever does, but I do. I don't care what kind of funny looks I get, that sourdough soaked in soup is damn tasty. As I munched and she sipped her green tea, we caught up with this and that. I felt a little awkward, tiny little me tearing chunks out of a bread bowl like a wolf tearing from its kill while tall and gorgeous her sat there sipping gently, ruby lips pursed over her straw. Whatever. Who cares really what other Panera people think of me anyway?

She told me she wanted to dine with me as an escape from her research and paper writing. I admit to being fascinated by her work, but didn't want to press the issue when she was seeking an escape from it. So I told her about my life: my senior year, my brother's wedding, what my family has been up to. The usual stuff. While her life is brimming with interesting insights and posh London lifestyle, I'm in that bleak period of life no one ever really talks about.

The Ramen Noodle Life.

I'm about to enter my last semester of senior year. What the bloody hell am I doing with my life? Where am I going to go? How in blazes can I find a job? An apartment? My skimpy bank account plus tons of student loans makes me feel as if I'm drowning in a sea of unknown futures. In college, they fill your head with dreams of success, of working hard for the big payoff later on, of opportunities and possibilities waiting for you. You hear success stories about alumni, where they are now and the glamorous and happy lives they are living. No one ever talks about this part of life. The living with mom and dad for a year flipping burgers life. The I spent $40k a year for this piece of sheepskin life. The what the hell am I doing life. The ramen noodles for every meal because my minimum wage job barely pays for rent life.

So damnit, here it is. From the horse's mouth, a blog about this dark period of life no one wants to talk about. Well I want to talk about it. No one wants to remember this part of life. Just because you don't like it that doesn't mean it isn't there. I'll rant and rave about every step of this journey until I reach that vague understanding of success. Whatever that means. A job? A nice house? A family? Who knows.

That's just it. Who knows? No one does. So here shall be my journey of trying to figure that out.