Quarterlife Lessons

Intro to Working World 101

By Leslie Bridgers

A staff reporter for the American Journal in Westbrook, she is a graduate of Bowdoin College.

I’d like to think I’m still sporting Connecticut plates on my car as a symbol of pride for my homeland. The reality is, the car’s still registered in my parents’ name, and, frankly, I’m not in any hurry to change that.

After becoming privy to this information, my roommate’s father asked me when I was planning on growing up. Not any time soon, I shot back.

Taking full financial responsibility of my car would be only one of several steps I still need to make to be considered a full-fledged, independent adult. But, thinking back on the past two years, in my transition from life as a student to that of a working person, I think there are plenty more changes I’ve made toward that goal than there are responsibilities I need to take on.

It wasn’t long ago that the decision to wake up for an 11 a.m. class was dependent on whether the sunlight managed to sneak through my shades and burn through my comforter. Now, getting to work before the sun’s up is hardly a rare occurrence.

Living semester by semester with three-day weekends every month and month-long breaks every year is a far cry from struggling to fi t in two weeks of vacation between deadlines and before the year ends.

And then, of course, there were snow days. Seeing flakes fall outside my window was once a welcome sight. With the snooze button hit, it meant I had at least another hour of sleep if not a whole day of it. Now, the white stuff incites immediate panic. No time to shower, get out the salt and shovel.

Even basic tasks, like feeding myself, have taken on whole new meanings. Sauntering over to the dining hall in sweatpants for chicken finger Tuesday is a luxury of the past.

Now, maneuvering around busy grocery stores, only to come home to find the oven is already occupied by someone else’s cooking, has me living off Lean Pockets more than I had imagined.

On the bright side, it does save me from doing dishes.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I deserve high marks for my attempt at adulthood. But after 20 years of worrying over every percentage point on exams and essays, I’m OK with just passing Intro to Working World 101.

I still call home for help every time my garbage disposal is clogged or my checking account is frighteningly close to falling into the red. So, even if my license plate isn’t a symbol of my Nutmeg State pride, it is a reminder of the ties I still have there.