I'm still not making any coffee, though.

A couple weeks ago, I had a conversation with M about our jobs.

"I just want to do something that I like. I don't even have to love it, but I'd like to wake up and go to a job where I'm doing something that I care about," I said.

Without missing a beat, M said, "I want to make money. I want to make enough money to be able to do whatever the hell I want."

Today, as I was sitting in on a meeting that had little to do with me, I couldn't help but remember the conversation M and I had weeks earlier. I felt bad. The woman leading the meeting flew in from out of town. She was looking to talk to someone about records and, for reasons unbeknownst to yours truly, I was the best representative. I listened, nodded, made the appropriate comments at the appropriate time and generally did my best to look like I belonged there.

The woman studied my face as I spoke. She watched me so intently, I started to think she could see right through me. I focused on her eyes and silently dared her to read between the lines.

"I don't know what I'm talking about," was the underlying statement.

"I don't care about any of this," was a close second.

"I'm just biding my time here until I get transferred to the department I really want to work for," came in third.

Then, as I was in the middle of rattling off something not even I understood, it hit me: I need to grow up.

I have this thing in life where I just expect everything to work out on the first try. I expect to love the first job I have. I expected to get into my first choice college and have it all figured out by the time I walked in the door. I expected to graduate in 4 years and have a job lined up doing something that both pays well and is emotionally fulfilling.

Um, no.

None of that happened. And, much as I regret some things, I'm kind of glad it worked out this way. I'm starting to realize that only on the rarest of rare occasions will life go according to plan. It doesn't make it less painful or frustrating, but at least life is kind enough to be consistently cruel. For now, I'm struggling to figure out what kind of job I want and if it's possible, or even relevant, to have it be something that satisfies me emotionally.

"Just do something that makes you money. It doesn't have to be something you love, just something you can stand. Once you have the money, do the thing you love," M said it to me and it just clicked. It made sense and I was a little amazed that I hadn't thought of it before.

M's voice filled my head as I spoke to the woman who was leading the meeting.

"Sure, I can look into that for you," I said.

Her eyes bore into me and I thought, "I can do that, but not because I care. There are fewer things in the world I care less about. I can look into that for you because it will eventually lead me to the road I want to be on. I can sacrifice some of my interest and happiness because I know that someday, it will be repaid to me in full. I can look into that for you because I am putting faith in myself that I will follow through and become the person I want to be. Most of all, I can look into that because I have the knowledge, talent and ability to."

The meeting let out and I walked back to my desk. The ever-present urge to drop everything and walk out the door was still there, strong as ever. This time, though, instead of trying to repress it, I welcomed it. I allowed the feeling to make itself at home, hoping that it would never leave me. Praying that it will remind me that while I may not know what I want to do, I sure as hell know what I don't want to do.

I took a deep breath, sat down and got back to work.