The art of being a lost adult


It wasn’t her first time there. As she stood on the escalator that was carrying her up, the walls that ascended at her sides seemed much bigger than they had been last time. She tried her best not to look impressed, but as always, her big brown eyes gave her away.

“It’s quite an impressive building, isn’t it?”, said the girl escorting her up to her first ever real job interview.

“Er, yes, I’ve been here before but it’s er – majestic,” she blubbered back. Majestic? Where the hell did that word even come from? Of course, that would be a theme for the next hour or so. Emily had never said such odd, pathetic words in that short amount of time. “Connectivity”. “Inspirational”. “Innovational” (she wasn’t sure if that was even a word). “Regrettable”. “Youngster”. “Lithium”.

It had only been a few months after Emily had finally finished her English degree and ended up completely lost and unemployed. She should have known when she arrived at that first interview – she wasn’t prepared for the real world of employment, despite all the practice she’d had in all the societies she had been part of. The real world was brutal, grey and very often lonely.

She knew she wanted to write. When she wanted to, the words would come to her and she’d compose sentences that strung together wonderful stories. Maybe she’d be a novelist someday, but so far all she’d heard from the adults who had found themselves was a variation of the crushing word “no”.

The closest she got to be a writer was working part-time at Waterstone’s. What a joke, what a joke. Her phone started ringing as she was once again applying for jobs… I like big butts and I cannot lie… Her little brother had changed her ringtone again. For God’s sake, I need to get the hell out of here.

“Hello?”, she said in her most professional voice – it was an unknown number and it could be an employer, after all.

“Hey, loser, guess where the fuck I’m calling you from?”, said an over-excited Lily.

“Er… a brothel?”

“Nope, Facebook fucking Headquarters. I have a new job, mate. It’s bitchin’, I get all the free donuts I want and I get to be on Facebook all day.”

Yup. That did it.

Googling… best… ropes… to kill self… with.

Disclaimer: Before I wanted to be a journalist I wanted to write books and short stories. Unemployment has inspired me. Thanks, economy.

Disclaimer 2: I like Emily. She could be an unemployable role model for all of us jobseekers. She’ll be coming here more often.

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2 thoughts on “The art of being a lost adult”

  1. At least with times of unemployment we can look forward to better music. Normally the way it works. Stay positive

  2. I like the article specially the last paragraph; nope Facebook fucking……….. Translated to spanisk sounds musical

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