So I Graduated College and Moved Out…

… should be exciting, right!? It kind of was at first.

While I was studying at Rutgers my parents often asked me what I wanted to do when I graduated.  I would always get frustrated and tell them that I didn’t know.  On several occasions they asked me why I was even going to college and that frustrated me even more.  I really didn’t know exactly why I was in college.  All I knew was I needed a bachelors degree to get any job that I would be proud of.

I started working my current retail job in February of 2008.  I was on my way to my third promotion and signing up for the next semesters classes.  I had been pushing for this promotion at my job because it was something completely new and challenging.  I was so excited when I got it.  I wanted to do an internship, keep my job, and take additional classes all at the same time.  The internship  required 24 hours per week and my new promotion required 24 hours per week.  There is no way I could have done both and taken classes.  I chose the job.

I started dating my college boyfriend right before my first semester at Rutgers.  He was studying Finance at Rutgers School of Business and he always put school before me no matter what.  I quickly realized how important school was to him but I never really understood. For me school was school and all I wanted to do was pass.  We stayed together beyond graduation and we both helped him search for a job.  Since he had a clear career choice I felt like he should find a job and then I’d look for a job in the same area.  He finally got a job (it’s who you know not what you know) and we were going to move to Jersey City.  I put in for a transfer to a New York City store (by this time I was on to my fourth promotion and working full time) and we signed a lease for a tiny apartment in downtown Jersey City.

That’s when I finally realized I was miserable.



I’d like to introduce myself, my name is Allison.  I was the only child raised by my middle-class parents in a small New Jersey town.  My parents didn’t go to college.  My father is a carpenter and my mother is an administrators assistant.  I’d say neither of them love their current job and I can’t remember either of them saying how much they loved any of the jobs they had while I was growing up.

When I  graduated high school I had been accepted to the only two colleges I applied for.  They were both private schools in New York City. Each somewhere around 35,000 dollars per year (which middle class parents can’t afford even with just one child).  The only aspirations I had at 18 were to be a model, hence college in NYC.  My parents eventually bribed me into going to the local community college and in return I got to move into the basement apartment.  It really did make the most sense.  I didn’t have to take out a loan and honestly I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life (modeling wasn’t quite working out).

I finished community college in two and a half years not realizing you need five classes per semester in order to graduate on time (like I said, my parents never went to college and I never put two and two together).  While I was there, I was inspired by one of my professor’s, Bick Treut to pursue communications.  The only problem with that was at Rutgers University, where I got my bachelors degree, they don’t have communications!  After a  discussion with Steve Miller from the School of Communication and Information at Rutgers, I decided to major in Journalism and Media Studies.  That being said, I don’t know that journalism is something I will ever pursue however media is an entirely different story.  I finished school in December of 2010 and graduated with the class of 2011 from SCI.

I have avoided writing a blog because I was worried people would be disappointed with my writing skills since I am a journalism major after all. I also had no idea what to write about.  After missing out on internships because I put my retail job ahead of school, putting my college boyfriends career aspirations in front of mine, moving out of my parents house just to move back a few months later, and falling into a minor depression, I think it is worth something to share these experiences.  I know someone will relate.

I refer to most of this craziness as my quarter life crisis.