I Quit Without Another Job Lined Up

My parents might kill me when they find out. Yes, I put my notice in for my part time job. I just couldn’t continue anymore. There’s a multitude of reasons for this.

I no longer live in Irvine and the hour commute to get there at 5:45am is death.

My wage was not equivalent to my job title and work I put in.

I decided to dedicate more time to my internship.

I’ve been there for almost three years, it was fucking time.

I’m graduated and I’m so fucking over it.


Everyone has been waiting for me to leave. Friends, family, even some other coworkers. All knew that it was time. Leaving Chickfila became a running joke at work. A threat I told everyone but I would never follow through on (until now). I kept saying I was leaving but just ended up staying 8 months after graduation. Ridiculous. I didn’t think it would take so long to find another job. Life is full of surprises.

I was playing the waiting game. Waiting on a job offer, waiting for someone else to decide when I would quit, instead of just doing so myself. I admit, in part, I was probably a little scared. I was afraid of quitting with no job ready to go after, so I put it off. However, in doing so I realized that I had become stuck. I was stuck waiting on another opportunity. Too afraid to leave without having a paycheck coming in.

The idea still makes me nervous. The difference now though is that I do have something that will be occupying my time. It just doesn’t pay unfortunately. But it’s okay. I decided I have to invest a little now in order to get the experience I need, even if that might mean sometimes I won’t be bringing in the dollars I’d like. I have enough saved to take care of loan payments and I plan on getting another part time, just waaayyyy closer to home.

However, as of now my priority remains my internship and demonstrating the importance the position holds for me to the rest of the team I work with.

If only you knew how big of a step this is for me. Maybe you do. Leaving my college job in some sense is me finally closing the chapter of my undergrad life. It was the last step and now, my connection to that life is officially over. I am officially done with Irvine and officially in the next chapter of my life. And it feels absolutely amazing.

Lying Low and Avoiding Everyone You Want To

The byproduct of your postgrad funk  (see previous post) will be the desire to avoid any and all situations in which your current situation and future plans might be brought up in conversation. No one wants to catch up with others if they have nothing of value to update the others on. Of course, “value” is subject to each person’s own definition. In my case “value” is not working part time at Chick-fil-A and instead swapping it out for a nice, shiny (ANY OTHER KIND OF) job, but I digress.

I’m not so dramatic as to avoid all my close friends and relatives. (Definitely can’t avoid the relatives because I’m living at home). However, I find myself updating social media less and less. Part of the reason is due to the fact that I really don’t have interesting things going on anyway, all anyone would see would be me frowning in my work uniform, complaining about my annoying-ass customers. “NO our food is not gluten free, this is a FAST-FOOD CHICKEN restaurant!” “Yes, I will tell the kitchen workers to cut your sandwich into fourths, right after I tell you to go fuck yourself.”

Okay, a little harsh. Don’t worry I said that last part in my head and have long since mastered the art of being a fake bitch (Grin and bare it.)

I don’t particularly enjoy running into friends and acquaintances from college, especially those who are still in college and have yet to be hit with the harsh reality of postgrad life.


Weeks before graduation. As one can see, my eyes are full with the sparkles of hope.

Anyone who has graduated can empathize with the struggle. Undergrads still have stars in their eyes about what life looks like after 16 years of school. I’d rather not deal with bursting the bubble. I also hate feeling the need to over-explain exactly what I’ve been up to in the last 6 months. Who knew 6 months could go by so fast? If you want a quick summary, here’s what I’ve been up to: indeed.com and myfedloan.org

That’s it. TaDa. Exciting stuff, folks.

So what do I prefer to do instead of catching up with people and posting bits of my life on social media? Job hunt for one. Two, job hunt. Three, job hunt. Four, Netflix. Five, job hunt.

There you have it, a “how to lie low” guide. In other words: focus, focus, focus on what you really want. Ignore the outside world (in moderation) so that you may get to where you want to be. Of course don’t cast everyone aside, reply to a text if you must every once and a while, but lying low in a sense IS how to figure shit out. Take some time for yourself, girl!

The New Townies

I always assigned the word “townie” to those who never made it past high school, who never made past the driveway of their mom’s house, let alone past the town line of the city they grew up in. It has been an identity given to those who just didn’t make it out. They didn’t try hard enough; or maybe were never presented the opportunity to leave. Something kept them back and left them to a tiny, limited world with tiny, limited views and life experience. All their other classmates moved out of town, out of state, found big jobs, big opportunities, traveled, and lived. Meanwhile, the townies sat in their parents’ backyard at 19 or 20-something with all their townie friends. Sucks to suck.

Then I graduated college. Moved back home for a “temporary” amount of time. I’d be out within the year, definitely. I reconnected with my oldest friends. And we met up at the local Yogurtland on a weekly basis to discuss the drastic yet familiar change of pace: living at home, in search of a full time job, broke as fuck. And suddenly, we became the new kind of townie. Because there is not just one type of townie, but rather two. One never leaves, the other leaves but then ends up at square one. This second definition has become a scary limbo with no certain end date. It all depends on how much you work your ass off and the sheer, dumb luck of someone (ANYONE) throwing a job your way.

Once I realized my newfound identity, I had to share with the rest of the club. This “club” currently consists of a whopping three members. We so affectionately and laughingly have deemed ourselves The Losers of Crown Town. Thus came the inspiration for the name of this blog. I don’t think the “Losers” part of the title needs any explanation. Hello, living at home with no full time career in the foreseeable future. “Crown Town” is the nickname of our little, suburban bubble that we grew up in and then came running back to after the University of California, Irvine spit us out with that lovely student debt all of us American graduates are so familiar with. My fellow losers went to the same high school and university as myself, and we were all given the same fate. One is currently working on applying to graduate school for a teaching credential, the other just finished her last necessary course to be counted as officially graduated, and I am still stuck at my part-time food service job I had while at UCI.

While we are in this awkward position, an arm’s reach (hopefully) away from true adulthood. I have decided to document our circumstances in hopes that one day, when we are all successful and established, we may look back and be glad that we are no longer broke postgrads living off their parents. And so, in the words of my favorite daily vloggers:

“Are you ready?! Because this might get boring”

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