Life After College, Thus Far
57Ah, I remember the college days.
The ones where you were so excited to go to a new city and live on your own that it didn’t matter that the only silverware you had were the flimsy ones, from the dollar store, that rusted after the first wash. They were functional, and had cute stripes.
You learned how to live life without things you might once had taken for granted. For example, luxury appliances such as microwaves and toasters. (Which, I might add, is a great deterrent to avoid buying microwave food). I lived at the Dollar Store and got excited for my weekly shopping trips in which my dollar could buy a whole bushel of bananas, carton of milk, or bag of grapes!
But even with such savings I still allowed myself an indulgence. At the end of three months I’d get a coupon for a $14.99 car treatment. In this package I got my car washed, detailed, waxed, vacuumed and scented. The best part was that it’d stay looking clean until my next coupon came in the mail! For $14.99 I got a ten week investment and the feeling that despite my other lack of material goods, at least my car would look great!
Independence, however, was just one perk. There were also the roommates.
At the time, it was my goal to have as many roommates as I could before I graduated. And I succeeded. With a total count of twelve. Every three months marked a new car treatment and new roommates. And twelve was just the legal roommate count; not including the “couch” friends and prominent boyfriends. If they were factored in, who’s to say the final tally?
With so much diversity, one grew socially. All in all, if I had to do it over again I’d do it the same.
Being a recent college graduate, I decided to move back home and use the otherwise rent money, to pay off student loans and save.
However, wherever I go it has become inevitable that at some point in casual conversation a person will suddenly probe with the question, “So, do you still live with your parents?”
Airplane passengers, friends of friends and coworkers alike; in fact, anyone you talk to for more than five minutes, will ask this question. Like, “How are you?” and “What do you do?” Somehow this has become an acceptable follow up question and part of every conversation.
Because I have accepted this reality and become comfortable with my situation, I no longer try to deflect the imminent or give into the temptation to tell a white lie. Instead, with head held high and voice clear, I respond, “Why, yes, I do still live at home.”
Honestly, what’s the big deal of having your own place anyway? Is it the mere pleasure of being able to tell the nosy strangers of your independent status? Or is it to appease your peers who pressure you? Or maybe it’s a noble reason such as to silence your inner voice or desire to prove that you can. But, the fact is, I have lived on my own and have tasted a slice of that pleasure.
Whatever reason it is, I have chosen to be home for this season. I’m lucky to get along with my parents and enjoy their company. We have mutual respect for each other and coexist well. I choose not to live on my own, at this time, to bypass working two jobs just to scrape by.
While living on my own was fun, it was just that; a temporary experience for a further date.
Needless to say, I will still face those pretentious critics that will try and convince me/you that you are incomplete, missing out or “behind” because you’re not moved out. But the older people will always agree that if you can, living at home is the smartest thing for a time.
