I despise the term “Millennial.”
Maybe it’s because I am one, maybe it’s because most people seem to like me personally but when they start talking or thinking about my generation, I suddenly get lumped into a category of people who are seen as whiny, entitled babies, full of ambition and idealism, yet completely lazy and unwilling to work for anything other than their booze, drugs, and maybe the occasional trip around the world by bus.
The whole idea of the Millennial Generation reminds me of the year 1999, when the new millennium was upon us and when many well-meaning but gullible people were hyped up about Y2K, thinking that all of the computers in the world would go insane and rise up against humans, thus bringing upon us plague, destruction, and, ultimately, nuclear holocaust. Seems like a lot of people are just as hyped up about Millennials.
From the way that my generation (”Millennials,” “the Me Generation,” or “Generation Y,” take your pick on a name) is described, folks might think that we’re the new Y2K. I’ve read articles online where you’d think that Millennials are little more than dolts: better start stocking your closets with canned goods and medical supplies because the zombie apocalypse is coming your way, and we’re all between the ages of 18 and 34.
Like most of my peers, I was raised to believe that I could do, be, and subsequently have anything I wanted. Well, for a time I wanted to be a princess. Unfortunately, my geographic location and God’s will didn’t work out in my favor. I contemplated being a nurse, but sick people and hospitals freak me out. At one point in time, I was so lazy about learning to play the guitar that I tried to sell my soul to the Devil, a la Robert Johnson, in exchange for preternatural guitar abilities. I guess I disproved the existence of Satan, because I can’t play guitar to save my life, but that’s another story for another time.
Okay, I get it. Maybe I am a little lazy, but I’ve managed to carve out a niche for myself in this town by NOT being pinned into the same jobs that my parents had, though that’s mostly because I’ve never been a big fan of “Internal Auditing.” Being a librarian/baker/singer/housecleaner/babysitter/dogwalker/housesitter is fine by me.