I'm Thirsty.

I love my job. I really, really do. 

Yes, we get paid in gum and yes, my roles and responsibilities could probably be done by a 16-year-old whose first language isn't English, but I'm happy here. The hours are flexible, the company constantly shows they care about associates, and, most importantly, the cafeteria food is amazing. It's a great post-college job.

However... I'm thirsty. Parched, even.

I'm thirsty for intelligent conversation. I'm thirsty for a challenge. I'm thirsty for doing and learning about things that actually matter.

Today I walked into work, groggy as hell since we have to be here at the crack of dawn this week. I sat down, checked the one e-mail I'd received between leaving at 7 the night before and arriving at 6, and heard a gaggle of girls chatting a few desks away from mine. (Who "chats" at 6 a.m.??) Anywho, they were discussing whether or not they could pull off colored tights. 7 minutes later, they were all assured that despite their pale skin and light hair color, they could pull them off. Success!

A few weeks ago we had a meeting where our boss brought in different shirt samples and had us say which Roy G. Biv color we would place them under on our website. This meeting lasted an hour and thirty minutes. After minute twelve, I checked out and mentally listed all of the cities I'd visited in North and South Carolina (roughly 107). Yes, it was THAT BAD.

These conversations are commonplace, but by no means does that make them okay. It's not that I want to talk about Gaza or Libya at work, but how many times can you talk about which Michael Kors bag is more boho-chic or the difference between Marc Jacobs' new perfumes before making yourself and others around you braindead?

At both Wofford and Wake I was constantly challenged, both by professors and classmates. I miss that. I miss talking about things that matter. I miss being thirsty and actually having my thirst be fulfilled (usually by knowledge, sometimes by tequila). I miss being intellectually stimulated (and physically stimulated, let's be real. College was fun.)

And finally, I must include this because Soulja Boy frequently speaks to my life.

Stay thirsty, friends.