Oh, you graduate in August. What are you doing after that?I swear, I hear those horrible words almost every day. And almost every day, I disappoint whomever is asking with a shrug and a joke because I have no idea.Surprisingly enough, there aren’t a whole lot of a companies looking for someone to muse about Kanye West and Lil’ Wayne’s importance for a generation of lost twentysomethings.I can’t say I didn’t see that one coming.But I assumed there would be a plethora of jobs that would land me in local courthouses and town halls, reporting on the intricacies of the newest town ordinance banning three-handed clocks or open-flamed gas-powered rolling bar-b-que pits. In other words, I didn’t think the job would be ideal, but it would at least be a launching pad for the rest of my life.The only pad that seems to be slipping into my life is my parents’ pad, equipped with a myriad of high school memories and an empty future.It’s funny. And by funny, I mean let’s laugh at it before we start crying straightaway.I remember the first time I saw the news about the economic crisis. I was at the University Student Recreation Complex, and it flashed on a television. I was curious, popped my headphones into the machine and heard a bunch of talking heads going on about our country having some money issues.At the time, I was more worried about my own money issues: dollar burgers at Brightside on Monday or dollar Dixie at Chimes on Wednesday.Votes are in, kids: nowadays we might as well suck down those dollar Dixies, ‘cause we ain’t goin’ nowhere.That day at the UREC, I didn’t care because it had no effect on me. So many things have happened in our world that seemed important, that were important, but that had no effect on us, on our generation.Suddenly, though, there are no jobs. It’s not that people don’t want to hire a columnist with a goofy-looking mug and 600 words of nonsense a week. It’s that people can’t hire a columnist with a goofy-looking mug and 600 words of nonsense a week.This, in a word, sucks.But man, I’m trying. I’m trying really hard. The other day I applied to a job in Palm Springs, California. Dream job material. I figured there’d be some stiff competition. A few days later the senior editor sent an e-mail to me and everyone else who applied. This is what a part of it:”So far, we have 118 applicants for the opportunity of covering the city of La Quinta for The Desert Sun and weekly La Quinta Sun. And that’s in less than a week since we posted the job at journalismjobs.com. I understand how competitive a market it is out there and haven’t seen it like this in my dozen-plus years in this business.”Well, I’ll say it.Shit.And it isn’t like this stops with journalism. Engineering students are having trouble. Potential CEO business students are having trouble. The peers in my own major — English — are having trouble (but that’s nothing new).This thing is so much bigger than all of us.And I’m just starting to feel it.I want to crawl into a hole until the recession is over.But, since we can’t do that, we should remember things will be OK. Somehow, it’ll work out. Maybe we’ll have to spend a few more years taking complaints about the sour-to-tequila ratio in the sweaty margaritas we’re serving to older folks who established themselves during the golden years of economic bliss. But we’ll have our turn.We have to.And who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and be the one in 118 to nab that dream job.All I know for me is I’ve got until August.And I’ve got my fingers crossed about as tight as they get.Travis Andrews is a 21-year-old English senior from Metairie.
 
 
 
—-Contact Travis Andrews at [email protected]