Missy’s Substack

Missy’s Substack

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Missy’s Substack
Missy’s Substack
Let the panic commence.

Let the panic commence.

And I'm now one of the millions of people having a post-grad panic attack right now.

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Missy Appel
Jun 18, 2025
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Missy’s Substack
Missy’s Substack
Let the panic commence.
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Freshly graduated and currently jobless, so I figure I might as well talk about my opinions and share funny things that I think about or see. Sorry in advance.

Let’s talk about feeling directionless. I’m sure I’m not the only recent college grad on here, so I’ll say something relatable. I feel like a chicken running around with my head cut off. I have no idea what I’m doing. There’s something so harrowing about not having any kind of plan anymore. Maybe because I’m super type-A and need structure. Maybe because I had a vision for how I thought my life would look after college. I’m not sure. But it’s pretty horrifying to wakeup every day and feel like a pointless human being sometimes. I know, I know, I JUST graduated. But this has been a creeping feeling for months now. No plan. Just scrambling.

One thing I learned? Scrappiness is a superpower. Drink a bunch of coffee (preferably 2-3 cups if that’s physically possible for you), and reach out to people in the industry. Has it gotten me anywhere? No. Does it make me feel better? Also no. But it takes me one step closer to the career I want. At least that’s what I’m told. So I guess I’ll keep at it.

I’ve also learned it’s important to have a voice. Here’s an example (and yes, this is a true story):

My junior year of high school I was stage-managing a crew full of equally mentally ill, but also incredibly talented fellow theater nerds. I had a very scary girl who used to bully me there who tried to fight me in the tech booth because I was comforting her friend who was just dumped, and for some reason that was territory that she already marked. Like a pissed off Pitbull, who just witnessed a corgi sniff the pee that it left on a tree stump, this was quite possibly the scariest moment of my high school career. She sized me up and cornered me against the wall.

That was the first time I discovered my way with words. My creative taste if you will.

My first line of defense? I said this:

“What are you gonna do? What? You wanna hit me….? Hit me. See what happens.”

Should I have said that? Absolutely not. But, no one expects to hear that fall out of the mouth of a petite, self-conscious Jewish girl from the Valley. And yet, in my unhinged state, the cage was left unlocked, and those words escaped.

That was the first moment I discovered I have a voice. I’m not tough nor thick skinned. But, I am scrappy when I have to be. And right now, this feels like the fight for my life.

Sometimes it feels like this system isn’t built for your success. You have to push and shove your way into the room, kind of like a frantic puppy trying to get a treat. Except this treat feels untenable. And I spend a lot of time with my tail between my legs. But, my little spurts of bravery are the scrappy moments that keep me excited and passionate about the work. A good idea, a 2:00 a.m. notes app excursion, the hours and hours of writing down really weird ideas with my friends that go absolutely nowhere. Those moments feel profound. They are also the only moments in my life where I feel like I have any kind of direction.

I’m trying to stay scrappy and curious. I’ll keep you updated on whether that works.

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Missy’s Substack
Missy’s Substack
Let the panic commence.
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