It continued this way for three months - I never slept, I spent every waking minute at the office, yet I convinced myself this was still the greatest thing going - the American Dream. I was a Manager with no employees, a General without an Army. Faced with massive layoffs, my company was forced to cut my entire department, and leave all responsibilities solely in my hands. As the twin towers fell, the economy fell with it. I worked 70 hours a week, but I believed that I had achieved in a short amount of time what it had taken my father 50 years to attain. I had it all at age 21 - a brand new piece of paper designating me a master in the Physical Sciences, and a Management position in a strong company, a score of people twice my age reporting to me. By night, I climbed the corporate ladder. By day I struggled to comprehend superstring theory, laboring under the false assumption that a Masters Degree in Physics would bring exciting things for me. I was transferred for the 11th time in 6 years, this time to a place of some responsibility for the everyday running of the company. The groundwork was laid.Ĭome graduate school, my contributions to said company began to become clear to some in positions of power. It was during this time period, the wonderfully blurry undergraduate years, that I unknowingly sowed the seeds of my current employment bliss. Yet, for the sole reason of tuition re-imbursement, I continued with the same company - continuing to bounce around from department to department, serving as a van driver, a shipping and receiving inspector, an MIS administrator - I never stayed in one place for very long. I was immediately hired at minimum wage and began a series of menial jobs within said company, including authorizing credit cards, and serving as a squeaky-voiced telephone operator.Īt 16, I graduated from High School, and moved off to the wonderful world of college. I arrived one spring morning at the offices of a local company - just a 15 year old, acne-encrusted, bespectacled face in the crowd - with a dot-matrix printed resume extolling my massive abilities with the 386 computer and willingness to work after school. An epiphany was had this morning as I perused SA, sipping Code Red and toying with the notion of stepping outside for my third cigarette in an hour: Nine years and 2 months of my life have been devoted towards the goal of personal advancement within a small yet thriving company.
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