Business Casual
In a little over two weeks, I’m going to be wearing business casual. We all do it, we all do it plenty whether or not we’re going to a job, but this instance will be for a job.
After finishing all my interviews for this job, I felt pretty good about myself, I took a black and tan up on the roof of my new place, looked across the East River and took stock, looking across at all of Manhattan splayed out in front of me.
I used to watch the cars drive by across Lake Calhoun at night. Now I do the same, looking across the river at the cars speeding up and down the FDR. And now, I am in a different place. Coming to New York can make you feel like an immigrant even if you are from this country, and even if you’ve spent a fair chunk of time there. And if you spend about half of each work day speaking in Spanish rather than English, well, that doesn’t make you feel any less foreign.
But I made my dent in this city. Each day, furiously flailing toward progress or some semblance there of, my arms have been sore, but I never stopped. And now, in just over two weeks, I start writing Kaplan’s MCAT review content. And who better to do it than me? I’m going to be a surgeon, it’s set, my deposit for med school is literally in the mail, and going back to my roof, it feels pretty good.
In college I’d freaked. What now, what after?
Financial independence, har har.
But now I’m there. When people on the street ask me for money, I’m no longer inches away from breaking down and showing them just how poor I am.
Hell, now I can even afford to the gym I just joined.