If you wanted to meet for lunch on May 23, I can’t.  I have plans.  

I’m going to roll myself out of bed that day after my college graduation, pack my fuzzy blanket, wine glasses, coffee pot and books into my car, and move out of my house in Eastward Look.  

As my college career comes (stumbles) to a close, and my bank account begins to look scarier and scarier, the place I’m moving to is starting to sound better and better.

Picture this:  full fridge, every day.  Free laundry service.  Dinner at least five nights a week.  Coffee already brewing when you wake up in the morning. It’s not a guarantee, but there’s a good chance your bed sheets will get changed without you lifting a finger.

Yeah, I’m moving back in with my parents.

If you had asked me four years ago- even if you had asked me last year- if I would be moving back into my parents basement post-graduation, I would have laughed out loud.  Because I didn’t consider myself the “type” of person who moves back home.  Those people, in my eyes, smoked weed every day, didn’t have internships and didn’t work through college.  

For all of my college career I thought I was setting myself up to bypass this transitional phase many college seniors find themselves in; the year or so post-grad where they recuperate from four years of spending money and drinking.  I interned, I took an intensive major-related study abroad course, I dedicated countless hours of my life to The Good 5 Cent Cigar, I worked part time jobs, I saved. I’m the kind of person who chooses what to leave off their resume, not the kind who widens the margins and increases the font size on the punctuation.  

But now at the end of it all, I’m moving home.  And not because I don’t have a career-related job, but because quite frankly, I don’t want one.  

I’m told this is a “millennial thing.”  

Now this is not to say I don’t love journalism- these past four years studying media have been some of the most engaging and provocative times of my life.  At the Cigar, I learned to manage a media business while forming friendships I’ll have for the rest of my life.  At my internship at Rhode Island Public Radio, I got to work under a brand admire above most: NPR.  When I studied international journalism in Prague, I was exposed to a culture that swept me away and met my boyfriend.  

Newsweek recently called millennial college graduates “young, educated, and jobless,” suggesting that millennials have skewed goals and perceptions of the world. Many millennials  have traveled the globe through but have never punched a time card, which when paired with unemployment rates and personal debt leave people our age at a serious disadvantage in terms of getting hired.  But regardless of the statistics, this isn’t the reason I’m not looking for a job.

The issue I’m facing is that I have no idea what I want to do with the reading, writing, editing and critical thinking skills I’ve been cultivating these past four years.  And so instead of chaining myself to a newsroom desk or the annex of a communications firm, I’ve decided to simply not settle.  At least, not yet.

So here it is, this millennial has a plan:  I want to move back home with my parents. I want to have groceries bought for me.  I want to go back to my job in food service, and I want to have a few months to take a deep breath, clear out my credit card debt and figure out my next move.

It may not be glamorous, but I have a plan.