(I'm grateful that an all-too-easy "Ryan the Temp" nickname never caught on in my office)
It's been nearly eight months since I walked across the stage, shook this man's hand, and began this crazy journey that we call "the real world". Gone were the days of playing basketball with my friends every afternoon, watching daytime TV, and skipping class to babysit my nieces and nephew. I remember very distinctly having no clue what awaited me upon crossing over to the other side of the stage. Compared to my friends Rachel (who works for Uncle Sam and currently has VERY impressive graduate schools drooling over her) and Cale (who disappeared into the Colorado wilderness to begin working on his PhD), my life was more uncertain than the ending to Blade Runner.
But, as I've mentioned before, I was fortunate enough to get my foot wedged in the door with an incredible oil and gas company..."on a temporary basis". What that means is I work for an hourly wage with no paid vacation or benefits. I was unable to take any time off for the holidays...and jokingly asked if I could work on the holidays the company gave us. Yet I have an undying sense of optimism and was hopeful that someday the temporary tag would be lifted.
Which just so happened to be last week when I was offered a full-time position!
("Yes, I will take all of my vacation...now.")
But wait a minute... How can I seemingly have my life in order? This time last year I was having a Valentine's Day date where I set off the fire alarm while cooking spaghetti and futilely tried to uncork a bottle of wine with a kitchen knife in front of her. Now I'm supposed to start a 401K and keep up with our company's stock? What's next? (I guess if I am really following Ryan from The Office's footsteps, a huge promotion and subsequent arrest.)
Without getting too existential on everyone (a la Tree of Life), isn't everything temporary? You would think so...yet it's strange how life changes while invariably staying the same. From my interest in watching the Houston Rockets play themselves into basketball purgatory yearly, to a certain storyline from Kevin Arnold's life in The Wonder Years that eerily resembles my own, there are striking similarities between my life now and when I was 16 (maybe less).
I still self-reflect by writing things down and listen to music made before my time. The Rockets still meddle with mediocrity while the unattainable girl is still relatively unattainable.
Yet with my eternal optimism (which will either be my saving grace or tragic flaw), I've got to believe it's only temporary.
-PB
