Go for it now. The future is promised to no one. -- Wayne Dyer

As a recent college graduate, I thought I would have my life figured out.

Man, was I wrong.

When I was younger, I always thought that when I finally graduated college I would be a card carrying adult. An adult that, like, knew things. I thought that once I crossed the book riddled finish line I would know what my path in life was going to be.

Funny.

When the day finally came, I had no fucking clue about what I was going to do with my life after that moment. My 22 years of existence on this blue marble had lead up to this moment of a glorified stroll across a stage. The jaunt was the end result of hundreds of caffeine riddled nights, the reading prowess of thousands of pages, mind-numbing projects, and years of sugar-infused studying. Naively, I figured that the end result of all of this work would match all of the hard work (and money) that I had put into it (the culminated weight of the two would probably equal the weight of an African elephant and his hippo friend.) But, life is not a dream world filled with unicorns shitting rainbows, and in this world we live in -- not everything turns out the way we expected it to.

During the days leading up to my graduation, I knew that the end was coming. My fucking student planner told me so. I just stupidly expected that I would wake-up one morning with a knowledge surge of what being an adult really meant. To no one’s surprise (except my own,) it did not happen. I never ended up having an ‘ah-ha’ moment when the puzzle pieces of the universe neatly snuck into place to reveal the secret on how to be a successful adult person. Instead when the big day finally arrived, I felt like I had been caught with my dick in my hands with the lights on. Side note: As a lady, I only have a metaphorical dick -- not a real one (I also have a pair of metaphorical balls too, but that is not important right now.)

So it is here where we lay our scene: at the brink of being a grown-up. This is not the Rugrats' version of being grown-up, this is the real thing. This is real life. Or, rather, my real life, and my unsuccessful jab at wearing the adult uniform.