How Your High School Job Predicted Your Future

At some point during high school, Mom and Dad stopped believing your “we’re having a fundraiser at school” ploys to get cash for gas and liquor. You were 16, had too much time on your hands, and wanted to make something of yourself, so you went out and got the first minimum wage job you could get your scummy little hands on. Little did you know, this meaningless job would predict the outcome of your life.



High School: You lived for a solid tan and rock hard abs. Whistle a little here, backstroke a little there–your job was the easiest thing in the world. You sat in the chair above the pool, dozing off behind the shield that was your sunglasses, soaking in Vitamin D like your nana soaked up Botox. Life was easy, as long as you stayed in good enough shape that your muffin top didn’t spew out over the sides of your drawstring bathing suit.

Adult World: Now traumatized by not being able to spend a major chunk of your life in a swimsuit, you attempted to become a workout nut who started off by simply taking advantage of the free tanning session that came with your gym membership. Later in life, you went on to star in MTV’s “True Life: I’m Addicted to Tanning.” You continue to tell yourself that you want to go for a quick swim at the pool, but the second you hop in the icy, indoor waters you remember how much you actually hated doing laps, and that your freestyle is no longer at a lifesaving pace. Soon, you’ll completely ditch the freestyle and stick to sidestroke, because then you won’t have to get your hair wet. Cue Frozen’s “Let It Go” and watch your beer belly start to grow as you finally accept you are no longer that stud of a lifeguard all the girls wanted mouth-to-mouth from.



High School: Not only did you love the easy cash, but you secretly loved telling bedtime stories and playing with Barbies all over again. You consistently thought every time you babysat, “Wow. I’m getting paid to eat chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. Is it possible for life to go up from here?” A hide and seek connoisseur and a coloring book fanatic, you knew one day you would major in mothering and grow up to become a professional in the field.

Adult World: Your crazy obsession with newborns paired with your desperate search for a husband has resulted in you scaring the living shit out of any male that says “hello” to you. Your unfertilized eggs aren’t getting any younger, and with every month that passes, your womb aches worse than a stomach that’s never been fed. You soon start to slowly go insane, and you replace the empty hole in your life with various kittens that are “just so cute you could eat them!”

Retail At Some Trendy Clothing Store


High School: You were stoked when you got accepted to be a “model” at Abercrombie & Fitch, dreaming of posing topless in jean shorts the length of the average belt’s width on gray-scale bags everywhere. You took advantage of your 10 percent discount before your first day of work, buying out all 30 variations of jeans in the store. Once you realized that “model” meant you had to refold shirts every time someone larger than a double zero grabbed something from the pile, you were done and quit your job by simply blocking your manager’s number and never showing up again.

Adult World: You probably went into something business oriented, drawn in by the perks of wining and dining while wearing clothes that make you look much more important than you really are. The moment you got your first real job offer, you cleared out Banana Republic, spending more money than your starting month’s salary. Who really cares what you’re actually doing for a living as long as you look damn good in that pencil skirt?

No Job


High School: You were either privileged or lazy. Probably both. You also smoked a ton of weed using the allowance your doctor-parents gave you weekly.

Adult World: You finally traded in Mom and Dad’s crummy old basement TV for a new, high definition flat screen after saving up the allowance you still receive for one whole month. You own a ton of T-shirts with pictures of wolves on the front, and you haven’t brushed your teeth in a couple days because your parents keep forgetting to buy you a new toothbrush when they go grocery shopping. You keep insisting you’ll finish up your gen-eds at the local college, but continue to get distracted by promotions you don’t get at work.

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Topanga is a contributing writer for Post Grad Problems. Lover of red wine, mediocre gossip, and Corey's whipped ass.

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