Postgraduate Angst, Part One

In the relatively short time that has passed between my last post and now, I have graduated from college, moved to a new city, and have been working for about a month at the job that I will have until I either 1) Get knocked up, 2) Have a mental breakdown, or 3) Pass away.  Whichever comes first.

Though the title of this post may suggest that this time in my life is forcing me to regress into an early 2000's emo-middle-schooler mentality, I must admit that so far I am pleasantly surprised by how much I'm enjoying my job. Unlike the somewhat mundane and stale work experiences I've endured as an intern over the last few years, I am now in a position that is much more challenging and stimulating on a day-to-day basis.

That being said... I turned 22 two months ago. My brain isn't even fully developed yet. What exactly, pray tell, qualifies me to be in the workforce? There's a huge part of me that feels like I should be fumbling my way through some foreign country right now, working odd jobs, drinking cheap wine, and not giving a damn about my credit score.

We're young! We're professionals! We're going to work for the next 3-4 decades at a mediocre job! Go team!

On flipside of that coin, I know that I am lucky to be earning a paycheck. I am far more fortunate than a sizable amount of people in the world who don't have a way to make ends meet.

I get that, really I do. 

What I also get though, is that 97 times out of 100, someone's job isn't their calling. There are very, very few people who find honest, consistent fulfillment in their careers, and when people spend 8 or more hours a day at their office, surely it's impossible to prevent career unfulfillment from morphing into life unfulfillment... Right?

Life, as we all know, isn't a cake walk. Life is hard sometimes. Life is expensive. But life shouldn't be unfulfilling - what on earth would be the point of being on earth?