On October 3, 2005 I wrote an entry where I spoke of taking risks and following one's heart rather than pure cold logic. Yet we all know that life has a fetish for irony and in my case this ultimate irony was that the very person who once had motivated me to make illogical, wonderfuly risky choices was the same person who two days ago told me that
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Two weeks ago, I walked accross the stage in the Greek Theater as rain soaked my robe and my family watched from the stands. Those few hundred feet were the easy part about graduating college...now comes the hard part - what next? I've always known that I'm inteligent and, in fear of sounding full of myself, that as long as I applied my mind I would never starve (this doesn't mean being passionate about my job, but I knew that I would always have one). I know how to work hard, I'm ambitious, and if I don't know something I have full confidence that I can learn it. The rational choice has always been to apply to graduate school, do a post-doc, and then either enter the rat-pack of accedemic life or sell my considerable skills to the highest bidder in the pharmaceutical market. Unfortunately I'm not an emotionless machine. I hate the pettiness of the acedimic world,
I feel exactly the same way.
I've sold my soul, but... taking classes while working mitigates the inner angst. God I want to work on medical detectors *tear*. And yes, like you I too want to help people, but my logical advisers tell me that I should stick to corporate whoring, as my chances of making a difference are slim. Part of me screams "O RLY?", another one says "Yeah, they're right". For now, for ONCE IN MY LIFE, at this crucial junction, logic has over-ridden passion.
But it hurts. Still.
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