<p>This actually concerns me a bit, too.</p>
<p>I love what I do. I sincerely believe that there’s no more noble and truly honest calling than designing state-of-the-art buildings. It’s just breathtakingly amazing to discover that I know how to put all these bits and pieces of concrete and steel together and create something that will last fifty or even a hundred years, using some computer programs, but more often than not, just my brain, calculator, and some pieces of paper. There’s something particularly special about the fact that this one is going to be a huge, towering maternity center for high-risk pregnancies. It’s a good calling, and I earn good money. It’s not amazing money, but it’s far better than the majority of the alternatives.</p>
<p>The hours are long. I just hit my first very major deadline, and I came into the office every day for 19 days straight. Twelve in a row were 9+ hour days, and most were more like 11 or 12. I go to work, I work very hard and very quietly all day, and I come home tired and a little incoherent while my brain recongeals. Some days, it’s envigorating. Other days, I get very, very frustrated.</p>
<p>When I was in high school, in order to get into college, “well-rounded” was the name of the game. So, well-rounded was what I set out to be. I was a competitive pianist, I was in the orchestra, I did ceramics, I was a Girl Scout, I was on student council, I was on the speech and debate team, I played softball, I was president of the engineering club, and I absolutely loved my classes. In college, it was the same deal. I had a million courses and a million extracurriculars.</p>
<p>The transition to grad school was abrupt, and then to a highly competitive career was even more so. I’ve had to give up ceramics. My opportunities for public speaking are few and far between, though I love them when I get to do them. I’ve sat in front of a piano probably five times in the past year, and when I do, the muscular atrophy that I’ve experienced is so frustrating that playing is just not the comforting, satisfying experience that it once was.</p>
<p>I love what I do, but I don’t like becoming the person that this job demands me to be. If I chose a less challenging job, I’d be bored out of my mind. At my top-tier job here, I have to spend my evenings and weekends either doing more of the work that this job demands of me, or recharging my batteries.</p>
<p>It makes me a little bit mad, and I feel a little like I’ve been tricked. In order to get an incredible job, you have to have an incredible educational background. In order to be admitted to a college that will provide you with that kind of a background, you have to just thrive in a hundred different subjects and exude an infectious passion about all of them. The incredible job will be incredibly demanding. Ergo, the best young people for the job are going to have to give up many of their passions and focus on that one small path for the rest of their lives. What a rip!</p>
<p>I am inordinately thankful for what I have, but… yikes. Is this really what I have, now?</p>
<p>I know there’s more to life than work, but I wish my bosses understood that a little better. I don’t even know what I’m going to do when I have kids. Is this just a phase I have to go through? Am I going to ever get used to this? Or am I one of a new generation of fiercely well-rounded top-tier college graduates who’s crashing headlong into a world that just keeps getting faster and more complex?</p>
<p>Anybody have any words of wisdom?</p>