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Well, here I am. Trying to figure out my future and not quite succeeding. I'm not where I wanted to be when I graduated, but I'm also doing a lot better than most recent exiles of the college bubble. The job isn't horrible. The pay is above the poverty line. The work isn't demanding, there are no real deadlines. I can complete most tasks while reading Time Magazine on my phone, unquestionably the only intellectually stimulating highlight of this sinecure. But the thought of settling, of remaining in this position not because it is the best use of my time or my potential but because it is the most convenient option, depresses me. If I stay too long, I'll become so unmotivated and dull that the company will have no choice but to promote me. Too many inane conversations about the weather will do that to you I guess. No salary is worth my soul. I hope I remember this bitterness when I'm 30, and I'm not living in it.

On the bright side, a coworker turned me on to the perfect place to take a nap in the office: the library. I look forward to many solitary lunch breaks sprawled over two chairs.

I miss traveling. Above everything, I miss traveling. For the record, I am down for any weekend road trip. My dad is currently en route to Scotland and I would be there with him in a heartbeat if I could afford the time off of work. I love to see him happy.

I turned down Columbia. It wasn't for me. And no, I'm not crazy. Something better will come along.

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August 2011
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