nine to five

i work for a prestigious publishing company that puts out an annual professional directory that you must be researched, background checked and interviewed to get into. i talk to incredibly intelligent, famous and (most of the time) snobbish professionals all day. i talk to them about chemistry, Ph.D's, strategic planning and project management. my job title is "senior research director" which means that i write the biographies for these professionals and talk to them over the phone to get the information accurate.

it's refreshing and wonderful (sometimes) to work in a job where i can use my vocabulary and writing skills all day long. of course it's empowering to hear the dean of harvard medical school tell me that the way i've worded things sounds better than his interpretation. but, when i get home at night i find myself talking to my husband in the voice my four year old niece uses. it's almost as if my mind has a ceiling for how much intellect in can handle in a day and by 5pm i find myself mispronouncing words like "facility".

i'm caught between feeling like i have everything anyone could ever want and feeling as though i have nothing i need.

2006-01-11, 8:19 p.m.
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