The Oyster

That old Shakespeare line, ‘the world is my oyster’, comes to mind when I reminisce over my outlook three months ago. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I was a fresh graduate with two degrees in my hand. And yes, I mean degrees, not just majors. I mean two different pieces of paper denoting just how badass I am at being well-rounded and diverse. . . or just foolish and in debt. . . hoping beyond reason that my ‘renaissance man’ complex would get me a job.

But, I digress.

I thought I had it figured out. I knew I was in debt (details to come), but I had my plan to pay it off in 5 years. I also knew, and still know, what I want to do with my life. However, this ideal shiny world of debt freedom all hinged on one small detail. A detail that I obviously had worked hard, and had spent the months prior slaving, to tie down with a firm handshake and some scribbles of ink. That little detail that most college students are thinking about constantly through their senior year, or victory lap in my case. (I feel like something is missing here. . .) That small, insignificant detail that was the elephant in the room that I refused to acknowledge. Because, I definitely had it handled, and I absolutely did not need any guidance from my career center, or the career fairs, or my network connections. No, I was an adult, and I could handled it.

This would be the most childish lie I could tell myself, at least up to this point in my life.

If you have not guessed it, ‘it’ is the job.

My first lesson to you is a simple one; make sure you actually have the job. I learned the hard way what happens when you don’t get it in writing. That is a story for another time though.

Right now, it is important that you understand that I am taking hold of my life. This is my stand:

I am going to make a custom life for myself; a life that I will be proud of, a life that inspires others. I will have a life lived, not lost.

I am going to find that oyster, because, while Shakespeare might have meant that only a few are lucky, I believe we make our own luck.

The search for my oyster begins now.

P.S. I know some of my grammar seems terrible. However, I know the rules. The beauty of that? I can break them.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s