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So, it seems like only days ago, I was making that long-awaited dash across the graduation platform.  Ever since, I’ve made it a habit of mine to not take these first few months of poverty all too personally.  I’m positive my degree means something, anything, despite the fact that many of the people in my graduating class have already dejectedly resigned to work in retail.  I, on the other hand, have landed a big girl job with big girl benefits.  But, here’s the kicker:  the career I’ve embarked on, one month post-grad, has about as little to do with my chosen major as anything on Earth.  And so, like my ill-fated classmates, pathetically pushing the season’s must-haves at the local mall, I find myself wondering, “what next?”

For some of us, grad school offers an honorable excuse to prolong such a decision.  The problem is that I can’t even muster conviction to decide on any particular program.  I am, perhaps, the ultimate in-betweener, being stretched by my passions in all sorts of different directions.  So, what’s a girl to do?

If you’re me, you throw bits and pieces of yourself into every imaginable avenue, exploring every angle of possibility the world has to offer.  You do what you can to break away from the things that, for so long, have been your primary places of solace, the hands you’ve held and the shoulders you’ve cried upon.  You follow your passion, even if it lands you halfway across the globe, wandering the Underground til the wee hours of the night, if only for the off chance that so many hours of people watching will somehow help you discriminate the next appropriate plan of action.  But most of all, you wait.

Then, when it feels like you can’t wait a moment longer — you wait some more.

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