I was talking to my friend the other night, and we were saying that now, when we’re on the phone with our parents and they ask us what’s new, we probably sound like we’re being evasive, but we’re not– we just have nothing to talk about anymore. When we were in college, we had four to five classes, extracurriculars, part-time jobs, roommates, friends we saw pretty much every day, campus events, weekends in Boston…there was a lot to talk about.
Now? I go to work, I go home. No more classes, no more activities, and still no love life to speak of. I still have roommates, but only two, and they go to work/class and come home every day, too. I see my friends sometimes, but not nearly as much as I used to, and half the time I just come home on Fridays and collapse into bed–I’m twenty-two and already I’m turning into my dad.
So what’s left to talk about? Well…work, and you don’t really want to hear about that. I could tell you all about what makes our math books special and which schools have adopted them and why we’re better than our competitors, and I’m sure that would absolutely fascinate you. I could tell you about office politics. Or about lunchtime in the wintergarden at my office, with my fellow broke twenty-somethings, where, last Thursday, we literally spent five minutes talking about pickles. And thoroughly enjoyed it.
There was an episode of Gilmore Girls earlier this season where Rory calls her recently-graduated boyfriend a “work dork.” I think I kind of like that term better than “workaholic” (which I’m completely turning into– I stay late at work even when I don’t really have to).
My name is Katie, and I am a work dork.