Will Work for Oreos

I graduated several weeks ago. I put on a silly gown and a flat hat, walked across a stage, shook some hands, and took some pictures. Once this ceremony was over, I was declared a real, true adult and told I had to find a job.

It's all a bit arbitrary if you ask me.

There's a song that Little Sister happens to know about how English majors cannot get jobs. She enjoys singing it to me. Thanks, sis. Love you too.

Song or no song, I have thus far not been able to secure a job in my field.

Today, as I was scouring the internet for jobs, I found a likely candidate and immediately began reviewing the qualifications. I seemed to fit the bill, so I began the application process in an excited frenzy.

ME: They want to know my college GPA! Where's that letter that Nameless Utah College sent me saying that I was awesome and that they were awarding me tons of GPA?

ALSO ME: That's not exactly how it works.

ME: WHATEVER.

Anyways, I finished the application and sent it off, and now I'm waiting to hear back.

Cross your fingers.

Fingers crossed? Good. Now go off and continue your joyous ramblings on the internet, while I wait and continue arbitrarily being a real, true adult.