We all know what our young, naive, usually-in-a-state-of-inebriation college selves thought about where we would be after college: rich, successful, and living days filled with constant sexual activity.
We were stupid.
Back in the acne-ridden days of high school, we all told ourselves that after college we would be successful and be able to show off to all those people who gave you us hard time, because clearly they weren’t going anywhere, and we were.
Fast forward to post-college. Yes, you have a job, make a salary (not a great one, but better than the $8.25 an hour you were hauling in as a summer camp counselor), and you have semi-annual sexual activity. Deep down you know that you haven’t achieved that awesome postgrad lifestyle you envisioned for yourself while you were doodling in your HIST 244 lecture while the professor with the rad beard droned on and on. However, compared to those high school haters mentioned in the previous paragraph, you have totally made it.
They don’t need to know that you still live with your parents, because you don’t make enough to pack up and move to the city right away. They don’t know that your mom still dries your clothes for you because you’re too busy getting hammered at the local bar. They don’t know that the majority of your day consists of working in Excel and other high-tech systems that do half your job for you.
My point being, we only need to share the highlights of our mediocre postgrad life to those exceptional douches formerly known as the football captain, that really popular dorky kid who never quite fit in with his circle of friends, or the former cheerleader that has put on 60 pounds and is now knocked up with her second kid.
So when that fateful run-in occurs, don’t feel like you have to be honest with them. Do what everybody does: fake it. Your postgrad life is awesome. To be fair, you really do have them beat simply by saying “Yeah, I got my degree.” Game over. You already win. But they don’t deserve to get off that easy, so you go on to tell them that you work in the city and you get to go to free Jay Z concerts and have cocktail hours all the time. Your life is the shit.
What’s that? You work construction now and live in that shitty apartment complex by the train station? *Self high five*
Even though your postgrad life makes you miserable on the inside, because you aren’t back at college ripping beer bongs and convincing girls to kiss each other, doesn’t mean everyone you hate has to know that. So the next time you run into such a lower class of human, you make sure they know that you’re kicking ass and taking names. Maybe even ask them what their name is when you see them, just to kick them while they’re down. As far as they know, there is no such thing as post grad problems for you, just postgrad $WAG.
Then, once the run-in is over, you can go back to silently hating yourself and what you’ve become.