10 Things I Learned From Leaving My "Grown-Up" Job

"Hold on guys - which one is mine?"

Congratulations Graduate!!

Remember May? You ripped off your robe and threw up your cap to celebrate your first real taste of freedom. You enjoyed the slew of parties, binge drinking and awkward conversations with people your parents insisted on inviting to your graduation party, and now a bunch of people are getting ready to ship off to grad school, and a bunch more will be shipping off to careers they've had figured out since December. This post is not for those people.

This post is for you, person-whose-degree-and/or-career-choice-requires-significant-DIY-work-post-college. I was you, two years ago, and I was lost as all hell when it came to what I was going to do next.

Technically, I'm still figuring that part of it out, but along the way, I have learned a crap-ton about what NOT to do. So strap in, hold on, and get ready to hear about the three times I've left behind a "grown-up" job in the past two years. With any luck, you might be able to skip making a couple of these mistakes in your own life -- but, if we're being honest, probably not.

Life's all about the journey, right?

She's Back!

Hello, my lovely darlings! After a long silence, I am returned -- and I don't think you're going to see me disappearing again anytime soon. There are a number of reasons for that, but first, a recap:

When last I wrote, things had picked up at the Mrs. Degree household - in a very good way. Well, that trend is continuing: nine months out of college, I've found myself in a job that is perfect for me - I mean, really perfect for me. You know that feeling you're supposed to get when you meet the love of your life, where you can see tomorrow and the next day and the day after that and the year after that until forever, and somehow you just know that things are going to work out, but you still get a stomach full of butterflies anyway because you just can't quite believe it, and you're just so darn excited anyway? Well, this is kind-of like that -- except instead of picturing kids and a minivan (because who doesn't picture that, amiright?), I see a place where I can be myself, where I can feel valued and respected doing work that I value and respect, and I don't glance over my shoulder every five minutes to see what kind of trouble is coming my way.

What is the heaven-sent job, you ask? Did this bright young woman actually find a way to get paid to bake pies, make beds, scrub the floors, polish the silver, and still have every hair immaculately in place to welcome home the hubby after work?

Sadly, no -- I've sold my soul (more like lost my preconceived notions), and gone to the dark side. I'm working in marketing.

I guess there's some value in trusting that the universe is going to work things out, after all.