I got a job. Or, more specifically, I got a paid position in the exact field that I’ve been training for these last 14 years. I got a career. I have a permanent room in the Ivory Tower now. It feels good. Cool. Refreshing. Intentional. Adult. That’s how it’s supposed to feel, anyway. Instead, it feels… not quite that. More anxious and accidental than it “should”– more adolescent.  But that’s not really the job.  Juxtaposing …[continue]…