Auditioning for adulthood in a hand-e-down suit

Last summer, while I was home doing my standard routine of working at the pool and… Last summer, while I was home doing my standard routine of working at the pool and hitting up the beach on my days off, I got a rousing lecture from my dad. I’ll spare you the details of this half-hour, life-altering experience. Basically, what it boiled down to was that if I didn’t get an internship and do something of value with myself the next summer, I was going to end up a waste of life with no future, working at the pool until I was 65.

Fearing the wrath of my father, I spent a good chunk of the first semester getting my resume together and applying for various internships. Believe it or not, a few places I applied to actually called me back to request an interview. The first one was scheduled for about a week after Christmas break.

My first real interview! Naturally, the first thing that came to my mind was, “What am I going to wear?” I thought this was going to be a great excuse to get my parents to buy me some new clothes — for the sake of professionalism, of course. Once again, this situation proves that my and my parents’ trains of thought run on different tracks, entirely. I came back to Pittsburgh with my sister’s black business suit tucked under my arm along with a great new pair of black boots that I gleefully purchased on sale.

Somewhere in the midst of applying and getting ready for this little rite of passage, I confused the idea of going on an interview with playing a big game of dress-up.

I scurried around my apartment the morning of the big day getting dressed and made up in my most capable-looking ensemble. When I finished and looked in the mirror to see the results of my efforts, I nearly fainted. Good Lord, I was suddenly 45. It was a significant switch from my typical winter uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and whichever hoodie happens to be at the top of the pile in my closet.

I stared back at my alter ego wondering who the hell I was going to fool in this get-up. They were going to see right through me — I knew it! There was no way I was going to come across as intelligent, mature, and impressive. I still wear my retainer to bed every night, for God’s sake.

Time was ticking, so I had to suck it up. I composed myself and decided to view this interview as an audition in which I was trying out for the role of the sleek and capable professional. I survived the Q-and-A session — I thought it went well. “Well,” seeing as I had absolutely no basis for comparison other than what I’d seen on television. I went back to my apartment and called home to report back to my family. After answering no fewer than 5 billion questions from them, I threw my suit on my bed, got into my pajamas and tank top, and settled back into a lifestyle in which I was much more comfortable: that of a college student.

My little interview served as a real wake-up call that the end of my undergrad days were in sight and that, soon enough, I was going to be a “real person” who was going have to do the things that “real people” do. When I think of being an adult, I think of getting up early, going to a job I don’t even like, making something like a casserole for dinner, and watching “ER” before passing out and starting the whole cycle over again. Yuck. The whole idea just creeps me out. I have no interest in getting up early and working all day, especially at a job I don’t like, and I can’t cook anything, let alone a casserole. I mean, I just found out two weeks ago that our oven doesn’t have a setting specifically for “preheat.” I could handle the “ER” part though, as long as Dr. Carter stays on the show.

While I was surfing the Internet for a cooking “How to…” guide and on the brink of a mini mental breakdown, one of my friends called to see if I wanted to go out. Saved by the bell! Snapped back into reality, I realized that I was blowing things entirely out of proportion. I still had a year and a half of college craziness to look forward to. I’m just keeping it in the back of my mind to savor and enjoy this college existence while it lasts. While I’m enjoying, I’m also looking into grad schools — I figure, after 15 years, I’ve got this whole student thing down pat. Might as well go with it. I’m starting to figure out what I intend to do with myself after I’ve earned my degree.

If I could only get a handle on the whole casserole thing.

Colleen Bayus considers herself a woman of many talents — cooking is just not one of them. Leave her your thoughts at cab2357@pitt.edu.