Grow up, they said. It would be fun, they said.

Hello, lovelies!

My second year at the University of Letters is finally at its ends and God, I enjoy my holiday. You see, it’s in Italy, and after hard work there comes complete relaxation and detachment from everything that means notes, books, highlighters and hours spent locked in a library room, surrounded by people who seem to have it better than you do. I’m done with feeling stressed and with being far from home unvoluntarily.

And then again, soon comes my senior year and then there goes life. Looking for a job. Sustaining life on my own, preferably my own. And that is scary as fuck, cause nobody is gonna tell you what you are supposed to do, how you are supposed to take this swarm of information coming your way. It’s like an invasion, an invasion of your confort zone and you must come out of there and you must fight, but while you do that, all you held dear and familiar will slowly change rapidly, radically. Yeah, you won’t die due to growing up, but in a way, nothing is going to be the same again. It was the same way when you passed from childhood ( oh, you blessed state) to teenage life, but in a way looking back it’s not something I really cared to notice. Yes, it was hard, but afterwards I managed to get a hang of it. It was kind of going with the flow while sticking to your own raft.

But now? What do I do now?

It might seem crazy to your foreign ears, but Romania is a strange place. Not that I intend to stay here, but let’s just say I might want to get some work experience first, before moving elsewhere. Here, there is this crap that nobody will hire you if you don’t do extra stuff. If you do extra stuff, nobody cares if you fail exams, just cause you do extra stuff. In fact, at that time nothing differentiates you from a notorious drunkard who spends more time hangovered after some party that he cannot remember. Which is sad, since they are trying to sell you this beautiful idea that you are important cause you are working for some students organization that doesn’t do any crap for you in particular (or anybody as a mass for that matter). I never quite understood why there must be so much blah blah blah and no immediate action. But anyways, to be successful at what you are doing you must pass your exams. In order to be respected, let’s say, those grades better be good. You are an example after all. You graduate from the university and then you see that your high grades were nothing compared to some dudes’ wonderful capacity of doing nothin, partying on the Uni’s money or students’ money, while you spent hours studying. Well, not nothing, but if you and Slacker here go to the same interview odds are he’ll get hired and not you. Why? ‘Cause you dont’t have any experience, doooh! Isn’t that ironic!

To top that up, everybody cannot believe you have dreams in such a materialistic world. Everybody would tell you otherwise, would swear that it is wonderful that you have dreams and that you should pursue them, while sending their own offsprings to Med school or other Universities of the sort, cause that is the way one is supposed to succeed in life. It’s hard, then it gets easier, they say, and then loads of money will come your way, tied to unicorns and angels will sing sweet songs to you, while dumbasses like me sweep floors somewhere, since we dared to break that precious rule. Because I want to become a translator, which is even more challenging than an impossible mission. More like a lost cause. And everybody looks at you skeptically, cause there ain’t no clear path for this career, and it’s hard, and who would want to be burried in paper they need to translate all day everyday? Me. And who would say no to a conventional job just for a tint of adventure, for a taste of the unexpected? Well, me. And everybody tells me I should settle: settle on the idea that I shall be nothing but an English teacher, and that I should be grateful, in this world of people doing jobs that are below their rank, grateful that I can work in my field. I should settle: who doesn’t know French?! I should settle: once I made my choice for this faculty, cause I have this gift for foreign languages, I cannot change, I cannot learn something new, challenge new limits and I am doomed.

And rarely, someone is telling you something encouraging. Not even your parents, that , after doing crappy jobs all their life, have lost their sense of enthusiasm. And it is terrifying in a way and gives you a purpose at the samd time. I am gonna prove them wrong, I am gonna make my dreams come true and we’ll see who’ll get the last laugh. That is what we all say.

True. We’ll see what will happen. Meanwhile, I shall enjoy the years left before I need to make life-changing decisions, thinking through every decision I need to make before those , so I don’t screw everything up.

Is there anybody else here terrified of growing up?