Those familiar with the television program The Office (U.S.), which is to say every single person who has so much as glanced at a Twitter feed or made passing eye contact with someone with a Netflix subscription, may be aware of a certain subplot in which a few members of our beloved gang of beleaguered paper company employees travel to one of the closest things America has to a tropical paradise: Florida. (Sigh.)
While there, one of their numbers — Stanley, given a blessed portrayal by Leslie David Baker — really goes all in on the Florida aesthetic. He wears sunglasses; he drives a convertible with the top down; he truly rocks myriad Hawaiian shirts. Generally, he seems unwilling and unable to give two sh*ts.
And, in just six weeks, I plan to become him.
My roommate and I are moving to Florida.
The long and short of it is that, come May 12, I will be graduating. For reasons both personal and related, I have chosen to have my midlife crisis now, at the ripe old age of 21, rather than later, when I might be busy.
Life is unpredictable.
I am graduating a year early (yes, a whole year early; please direct all extensive praise to my email address), and I don’t know what I want to do with my life. There are just too many things I think are interesting, and I want to try a few of them out before signing many of my weekly hours over to one.
What I do know is that Boston isn’t the right place for me to figure all that out. For one, it’s expensive — congrats to all of us for residing in the area with the third-highest rent in the United States! And to New York and San Francisco, who beat us out, I say: how are you all possibly coping?!
For another, the job market is competitive here. The employment rate is hella low, and there are all these bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Ivy League’d kids applying for everything. And considering my best argument for why I should receive any given position is “No, I’m not sure I want this job forever, per se, or even for a while, but at least you know nobody from Emerson is some rich kid whose parents paid to get them in. Emerson just lets those kids in, no questions asked! Let me tell you, the school is a BIG fan of influencers.” It’s just not that convincing.
The job market in Florida is slightly less filled with the fresh faces of the Harvard Class of 2019. And also there are still newspapers there. And offices. And places where I can generally trade my time for money in an industry that bears some similarities to something I could possibly find interesting. It’s still, technically, civilization.
Finally, and most importantly, if I have to deal with another Boston winter I will cry tears that will freeze instantly to my face. Luckily, my roommate (read: soul sister and love of my life) agrees on all counts.
Following some research (beginning with the Google search “cheap warm places”), we’re leaning towards Florida at the moment. But mostly, we’re relishing the fact that we have an opportunity to go anywhere! We have no roots, no responsibilities. We can float through the continental United States like adorable tumbleweeds.
So, in short: See ya, Boston. We’re blowing this wintry popsicle stand. (In six weeks, that is. Be nice to me till then. And would it kill you to warm up a little?)