When I was younger, my dad told my brother and me that he gave us "strong names" that could hold up professionally so that we had a chance of doing that too. Now that I'm older, I realize that this was probably just another way of covering all his parental bases and developing an excuse for giving us some uncool, boring names. Really all that determines your professional success, especially at an entry level, is your standard for rejecting bullshit, and your ability to perform bullshit tasks without questioning your IQ. Turns out, I don't really have this ability.
You'd think people about my age would excel in this area, after spending four years affixing foam hands to their own real hands, dressing up in theme wear, and considering this an excuse to get tanked before eleven in the morning, or taking shots of beer every minute for sixty minutes and considering this a thrilling, effective way of spending an evening. But, nope, apparently I'm lacking the ability to pack boxes, envelopes, and internet databases without once wondering why my college degree made me any more appealing than the next candidate. Until recently, I had been operating under the delusion that I would be helping children almost daily, that my mere presence would turn their lives around. Lots of idealistic college democrats probably share this delusion. Instead, I have to be satisfied with the fact that my ability to Fed-Ex check request forms will some day help some kid get into college. Maybe. Until I see some proof, I plan on enjoying many more post-work snacks.
