Graduating sucks. Instead of a diploma, the University should award a guidebook to real life. After graduation, I will have spent all of my savings on my education. Now I am completely on my own without money, without a job or a car. I don’t even have a place to live anymore.
I am moving to Boston but I have found that B-town is an expensive place to live. My roommate, Melissa, and I have called numerous realty groups in Massachusetts. Apparently, it is normal out there to put down $5000 at the time we reserve the place, but wouldn’t it be nice to look up things like this in a big manual before they reach the critical point?
One realty agent Melissa and I spoke to assured me that there was no possible way to reserve an apartment from across the country. He didn’t believe fax machines and money wire services were fast enough or reliable and he wouldn’t accept that we’d trust a friend out there to look at it.
He was aggravating and rude. When I was 18, I probably would have believed him and cried when I hung up. Now, acting as the mature adult I believe myself to be, I cut him off mid-sentence and said, “I don’t think you can help us, thank you.”
Convincing rental agencies to rent to me when I don’t have a job and newspapers to hire me when I don’t have enough experience is a trying ordeal. But, because of all the times I had to persuade a professor that a grade was unfair or remind the landlord that the rent was paid on time, I have developed the skills I need to deal with these situations.
I thought I was completely independent when I came to the University at age 18. I shunned anything that needed a co-signer or parental consent because I felt I should be seen as an adult. Now I’m begging my mom to co-sign on an apartment. I have finally realized that I don’t know all the answers. And it only took four years.