Taking no prisoners. Including herself.

It’s been almost a decade now since I graduated from college and embarked (defaulted?) on the world of being a working adult–if I may draw such an arbitrary line of when adult-ness begins.

I was graduating with a degree in Linguistics, not knowing what the heck I was going to do with it. Rather, I had been given some clues as to what to do with it (an internship at a San Francisco branding agency indicated that linguists and “creative types” like me make perfect fits in the profession I’m currently in: Naming). However, I didn’t know what to do with me.

That “creative type” sensibility was more than just an urge to wear hipster glasses and “bright colored shoes with bright colored laces” and brainstorm about ad campaigns. It was, I understand now, an acute sensitivity towards the world, confusion of how to navigate it without betraying the softest parts of myself and a quaking desire to somehow express my awe and wonder of what I saw as a most mysterious thing: to be alive.

The consequence of which was chronic self-doubt and an ambivalence about what I Should Do with My Life. An ambivalence which continues to this day.

If money and pride were of no issue, I would write koans all day.

All that is to say, here I am navigating my way to Palo Alto for my second week of a new shiny, corporate job which pays and benefits well and which also challenges me to find that tender inner poet among felt cubicles and conference calls–a challenge a decade in the making.

Lets see how I fare.


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