The year after leaving University I learnt more in one week than I did during the entirety of my three year course.  If only I had known this back then, I could have chiefed the student loan, gone to New York/Morocco/Bagnor for ten months, and studied harder at ‘The University of Life’.  The reason it was so REAL TALK was mainly because I had a job I hated, no money to buy food, rat’s living in my Doll’s House (that’s not a euphemism or metaphor), and my hair looked shit all the fucking time.

With a lot of graduates probably suffering the hangover feeling of “oh crap it’s not Summer-holiday-months anymore, so I can’t just pretend I’m going back to School”, and standing in stationary shops trying not to cry – god how I miss you Parker pens – we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t offer some comfort and attention in this dark, new-born adult time. You need options, so here are some.

PROLONG YOUR EDUCATION

Dig your nails into your puke-stained student carpet, shake your head at the world of 9 to 5, and refuse to put on a tie unless it’s a noose hanging you from the damp ridden ceiling.  Welcome to further education.

PROS: Oh hi, Van Wilder!  More sweet ass years of party!  Plus If you’re doing a PhD you might get funded, so it will basically become a job, and you can ease yourself into the world of work slowly and comfortably, like sliding into a paddling pool full of jelly.  Well, a pool of grey educational jelly that’s mixed with essay assignments and 4’000 page books, and is located in a library dripping with sexy young undergrads, who look at you with disdain and pity as you sit in grey jelly in the middle of a centre of learning, wearing yellowing underpants and trying not to blush and feel old and awkward.

CONS: See above.

GO ON A GRADUATE TRAINING SCHEME

These things really terrify me.  They scare me in the same way little boys on the tube wearing suits with their hair all slicked to one side and eyes that betray a hollow soul scare me.  They’re always nervously playing with their immaculate ties, eyes darting around the carriage as their mother, in the ultimate act of soul-crippling, spits onto a silk handkerchief and wipes their cheek with her lipstick spittle.  But I think this is mainly because I’m incredibly narrow-minded, have an allergic reaction to any clothes that need to be ironed, and get grouchy and sulk like a petulant girl in pink when faced with authority.

I have a lot of friends who’ve done these and said they’re pretty useful.  Plus boys in the city are amazing because apparently they find creative types exotic, want to take them to wine bars in Bank, open up about their parents’ divorce over tapas, then cry a bit in the taxi ride home.  So, well worth considering.

PROS: City folk make impressive boyfriends/girlfriends, it’s good training, you get funded while you do it, and a potentially stable career.

CONS: Credit crunch woes, and all of the above.  Live the dream man, BE A FUCKING REBEL.

‘LIVE THE DREAM MAN’ (WORK IN A SHOP/CAFÉ/BAR)

The reality is unless you’re fucking lucky and manage to make a big splash during your Uni years (read: make a big splash during your Uni years) following your dream will probably involve doing stuff for free while working unsociable hours at a job where you have to stand up all the time.  Personally, I hate standing up, my legs start hurting, so shops weren’t my thing.  However, I was a waitress for a bit and moving around constantly while trying to prove to customers that I had a brain made the hours go a bit quicker.  Perhaps the hardest bit about this option is the moments when you’re not working, as following your dream often involves a lot of being poor, only eating super noodles, and living with a daily feeling of disappointment as each morning you wake up and realise you’re not there yet.  Perhaps you’d develop a mantra, like, “still got that hill to climb”, then maybe you’d have to wait until you stop shaking with sadness so you can eat your porridge (gruel) and ring your mum for a pre-work sob*.  But once/if you do get to live that dream, oh my fucking god.

PROS: You could end up doing something you really really love, and enjoy the pleasure of shoving it in all your friend’s faces, getting them back for all those times they had more money than you in your early twenties, because they were working for ‘The Man’ while you lived your ‘Reality Bites’ NEVER-GONNA-SELL-OUT lifestyle.  Especially that Kevin, god Kevin is such a dick.

CONS: There’s a chance it will never happen and you’ll have to cope with being a full-time part-timer.  Both in your heart, and in your career.  Or something…I was trying to be philosophical.  It didn’t work did it?  FUCK.  Basically you’ll be well bored and disappointed and shit.  And Kevin will be really fucking smug.

*Purely hypothetical.  I am not speaking from experience.**

**I am speaking from experience.

CHOOSE SOMETHING RELIABLE BUT SLIGHTLY ODD

By this I mean the occupations in professions that will always be needed, so you’re looking at Lidl and death-handling.  Going further, death is the more reliable of those two, as it’s always going to happen.  That’s all I am saying.  You can involve yourself in whatever part of the death industry you like (no judgement here), it can be lucrative, and is actually incredibly stable as careers go.  See also: sex industry.

PROS: Money, constant work, and the feeling of always living on the edge.  Basically your life will become one of those ‘No Fear’ T-shirts from the 90’s.

CONS: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?  SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

DON’T GO TO UNI IN THE FIRST PLACE

Damn.  Damn damn damn.  I wish I was you.