As the demise of my undergrad career inches closer, I have found it increasingly difficult to match the insurmountable joy of my peers. As an impenetrable cynic, it’s rather exhausting to spend my time celebrating socially constructed milestones with people who never cease to me make me feel like an underachieving loser who the system will inevitably fail. I know this sounds rather negative and daunting, but healthy self loathing and my perpetual indifference is what has gotten me through almost eight semesters of useless group projects and repetitive coursework. Nonetheless, in my last semester, I have found pure solace in none other than Daria Morgendorffer. As I spent more time watching this series than interacting with my peers, I realized that Daria knew exactly what I was experiencing as a student that would be turned over to a job market with dismal opportunity and unattainable expectations. Daria understands my millennial agony and I love her for it.
I am 22 years old and American society expects me to know exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life. It is sick and twisted to force young people into such a state of panic and uncertainty. Most of us can barely decide what we want to eat for lunch (though it is most likely pizza) let alone plan out our entire life trajectory. I will not succumb to societies pressures to make a decision that will probably lead me down a path of unhappiness and a career selling insurance. Daria understands.
Unfortunately, at this point in the game, I have zero inclination toward productivity. All I want to do is watch Broad City and avoid the troubles of the outside world. I don’t want to fill out job applications only to be filtered into a endless see of other job hunting graduates. I don’t want to go work because I’m only reminded that the rest of my twenties will probably be spent working this same dead end job. And I don’t want to hang out with my peers only to be reminded of how everyone is actually accomplishing things while my biggest accomplishment is actually making it to my 9 am class on time. I want sleep and solitude so I can avoid it all. Daria understands.
I am honestly exhausted by all the enthusiasm surrounding graduation. Everyone is imploding from melodramatic excitement and all I want to do is throw up. Nonetheless, I put on a happy face and reluctantly participate in the unavoidable elation of my peers and family members. Whenever I express anything other happiness, people think it’s weird and call me negative. I am not negative, okay! I am a realist. I’m a realist that does not want participate in this fleeting moment of happiness only for it to be stifled by the first student loan bill sent to my grandmas house. Daria understands.
As college comes to a close, there has been an influx in the number people entering monogamous relationships. Everyone’s favorite social construct, a.k.a. marriage, is becoming a reality for people who spent most of their undergrad detesting the idea and making out in dive bars to 70s rock songs. Well, I refuse to subject myself to a life of monotonous intimacy and the overwhelming idea of having to spend the rest of my life with another person. Love sucks and people suck even more. Daria understands.
While there are endless one-liners in this series synonymous with anecdotes in my personal journal, I will not bore you with my negative banter and empty complaints. Adulting sucks and the harsh reality that it is rapidly approaching makes me want to hide in a monolithic pile of trash. Thank You, Daria, for making this transition slightly less unbearable and reminding me that cynicism is the best form of coping.