The Twenty-Something Crisis Aka “I LOVE Manhattan, but…”

Has anyone felt overworked lately?

For Buddhists, the ultimate destination is the spiritual realm of Nirvana. For retirees, the hotspot is the sunshine state of Florida. For twenty-something college graduates, the location of choice is the city fueled by coffee grinds and ambition, New York. But to “be a part of it” may entail more grindstone than glamour, and for idealistic college students determined to hit it big, make a difference and define their life’s direction, it may kill their buzz to realize that crowded subway cars aren’t the only thing standing in their way.

In college, so much of what you do is geared towards your “future,” as though it exists before you as a tangible object that you somehow magically step into at graduation. And for those graduates planning to work in corporate Manhattan, the first item on your “future to-do” list is to find—no, not a job—but rather, a career. The distinction here is that a job is merely what one does to make money. It is, in essence, a means to an end, whereas a career is a lifestyle, an identity. And as many college graduates soon realize when moving to Manhattan, the “9-5” (used very loosely) is not a means to an end. It is in fact, who they have become.

Despite the idealistic moments of fulfilling one’s self purpose or the more grandiose visions of one day sipping champagne on your yacht in the Caribbean, work doesn’t necessarily make your life feel any more meaningful, and you wonder if by the time you own that yacht, you’ll even have the energy to ride it. But then again—is it fair to expect to find your meaning in your work? I mean, isn’t work just that—work? Why is it that so many people my age—myself included—feel like we are entitled to something better?

I blame it on college, and for those of us who attended them; the competitive, top-ranking public and private schools that made us feel that we deserved only the best, that inspired us with idealistic visions of how we could “change the world,” rather than telling us that if we wanted to live on our own, or let’s say, in Manhattan, our idealistic endeavors may have to become more practical and perhaps more “cubicle” too.

And now, while I sit in front of my work computer, practicing “peon”hood, I find myself entertaining fantasies of subletting my apartment for a year and moving to Scotland to sit in cafes all day and live the romantic life of a poor artist, or trekking to Alaska to save the penguins or finally committing myself to yoga and spending a year at an ashram, enduring long periods of meditative silence and eating a vegan diet (yeah, I think I’ve taken Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love” a bit too much to heart).

The “not-even-quarter” life crisis seems to be an all too prevailing trend these days. It’s almost as if you’re not in the loop if you love your job—but hey, not everyone always wants to be “in the loop,” right? What is a loop, after all, but a repetitive stretch of circle!

Maybe I’m just being cynical and could use a change in attitude. Who knows? Perhaps I should feel less entitled and more accepting of my situation?

Or, I could just go and get another cup of coffee.

Yeah, that would solve it.