Comparisons are pointless

Yeah, pointless because sometimes you’re up, and sometimes you’re sleeping on your parents’ couch.

I have a close childhood friend who is a rare specimen.  She loves her job. Weird, right?  And yes, I think that alone makes her unique.  But also, she knew at 19 exactly what she liked doing and she persistently felt her way toward fun.  I know, total freak of nature.

As a sophomore in college, I figured majoring in business was the most practical course of action.  After all, I had already wasted a year and a half studying chemistry and calculus with hopes of medical school.  And now I was changing my mind.  Holy irresponsible.  The nerve, the shame, the make-a-freaking-decision-already-ness of it all.  

I don’t think I asked myself what job I might actually like.  I mean, that is totally beside the point, right?  I guess I fancied myself an executive wannabe, and pursued that path blindly.  Totally gross, I know.  *Shudder*

Anyway, after college, my friend and I both move to southern California and live together while I go to graduate school and she works as a waitress.  At which point I’m thinking, yay for graduate school and executive schmaltziness, right?

So I finish graduate school and start work at a public accounting firm. My friend keeps waitressing, spending all of her spare time on peripheral activities related to her dream job – taking classes, working on her portfolio, joining a public speaking organization.

I climb that ladder, collect my raises and bonuses and ashy cube-dwelling skin. My friend keeps right on putting all of her energy into the portfolio that will eventually *hopefully* land her the dream job.  

I frequently beg her to go out for brunch or other money-costing festivities on the weekends, but unless I’m also paying her way, she can’t afford it. Is she just dawdling, or what?  And look at me, all grown up and achieving the trappings of success!  I feel so cool empty.  

As of the five year mark:

She lived in Manhattan and had the dream job that let her play, create, express, and have fun.  (She still does.)  I quit my six-figure, fancy-pants corporate career, with no future plan, and parked it on my parents’ couch a la the George Costanza of Generation Y.

In case the suspense is killing you, thanks to whatever magical powers rule the universe, I eventually figured out what I want to do.  Whew!  And I’m loving it.  

And for awhile, my friend and I are happily bobbing along on the same general plane.  Okay, okay.  That’s a lie.  She is way ahead of me.  Funny how that works.

Of course, things change all of the time, and eventually one of us will probably be searching again, one will be flying high and the other flailing. Such is life.  

Comparing your success against other people is completely irrelevant. (Not to mention it will kill your dreams on the spot, but that’s another post).  It will waste your talents and your opportunities and your life.  I say be practical, follow your heart.