When Tomorrow Comes

My apologies for being MIA, but there’s a good reason for it.

Tomorrow, I intend to make lemonade out of lemons and truly become a career switcher in every sense of the word.  In 13.5 hours I’ll sit in front of a managing director of EBUCF (Even Better Unnamed Consulting Firm) and I’ll be poked, prodded, and hopefully deemed worthy of joining the ranks of people in this firm that are both smarter and cooler than I could ever hope to be.

I’ve never been in a position where I’m interviewing for my dream job.  I don’t really dream about having a job, rather my REM sleep is occupied with visions of talking alligators, my ability to fly, and random chance encounters with people I haven’t seen in thirteen years, gnawing on a ho-ho and talking Swedish.

But if there’s such a thing as a dream job — in some alternate world where I truly do dream about them — this would be it.  This firm is one of the M/B/B’s of the world (ain’t gonna sugarcoat it).  Their intellectual capital is phenomenal, their people extremely smart and capable, and their personal and professional benefits unmatched.  And the office in which I’m interviewing is not where I expected to be, but it’s in a community where I could make an immediate contribution as a young professional.

It seems that my family is really good at bouncing back from adversity…especially my father.  And it was my dad who became the first source of comfort after my setback this summer; it was my brother who gave me a shoulder/phone call to cry a bit after breaking up with a girl a few years back; it was me who gave my mother encouraging words as she began her cancer treatments this summer.  We’re too close knit, and too accustomed to the battle scars, to give up easily.

I told myself I wouldn’t give up after UCF told me no.  Moreover, I told myself that I would do even better, accomplish greater things, and perhaps with a bit of revenge in mind, tell everyone I couldn’t: would you like some lemonade?


2 Responses to When Tomorrow Comes

  1. MS says:

    Add some more sugar…Good luck !!

  2. […] while developing a farmers cooperative in Jamaica, and move to Detroit — Detroit?! — to work for a highly-prestigious consulting firm, I’d show you that the definition for guffaw in the dictionary would have a photo of me […]

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