I have less than $30 in my bank account as I write this. I’m a recent college graduate who is unemployed, much like 10% of the young adult population. Now would be the time that I should be applying to any job. A cashier at CVS, a sales associate at Party City, a waitress at a catering hall, wrapping up pasties at my local bakery. But I hesitate. I look around my town, at my friends, people I loved, people I admire, people with dreams and I find working at all of these places. It breaks my heart and terrifies me at the same time. These people went to college, had dreams of being engineers, photographers, cops, and graphic designers. It’s been years for some and they are still serving up ice cream to you at your local Carvel. I am afraid of getting a job and missing out on my opportunity of getting an occupation. I’m scared that I’ll be your waitress at Red Robin for the next three years and won’t be doing something that I have a passion for. I don’t want to have to worry about making a living when all I want is to be making a life for myself. I’m worried that if I give in now, I’ll never make it to where I want to be. That I’ll never escape from working a retail job in a small town. That I’ll always be making shitty tips on a Friday night at Red Lobster. I don’t want that for myself. And I know that these people and myself didn’t sign away our soul in student loans for a life like this.

I hesitate to get a job because when it comes down to it, I’m afraid of failing. If I submit to getting a regular job, I’ll be failing the little girl inside of me who wants so much more. I’ll be letting down my mother, who worked two jobs to help me get to where I am. I’ll be proving my father right, that I can’t make it, that my dreams will always be just that, dreams.

I’m not asking that I get my dream job right off the bat. I’m just asking for something remotely related to what I went to school for. Something that will help me improve and get to my dream job. Serving up Bloomin’ Onions at Outback isn’t going to do that.

I made a deadline for myself. A mark of when I would have to get my dreams expire and face reality.

If I don’t get something by September I’ll apply to CVS.

Well, if I don’t hear back by next week, I’ll look into Applebee’s.

Okay, once I reach $50 in my bank account I’ll get an application at Stop & Shop.

The other day, I asked a few people who’s dreams came true how they did it. How did they work in a job that wasn’t what they wanted while making sure their dream didn’t die. One of them told me that he didn’t sleep, they literally working 24/7, if not at their job than on their dream. Another lived with their parents until they were 25. Someone else told me that he didn’t go out or spend a lot of time with friends. But they all agreed on a couple of things: They told me they had to put their pride to the side. That I’m going to hate the life I’m living for a while but that the suffices that you make now will be worth it in the end. That these years humble you.

The advice opened my eyes. It reminded me that by doing nothing, I was failing by default. No, I still haven’t submitted my application to my local IHOP, but I’m not shuddering at the idea of serving you a stack of blueberry pancakes with a side of hash browns, well-done.