Dear Cary,
I'm writing about a frustration that no one I know--including my spouse, family, and friends--seems to understand. I have my dream job. My current work might be the thing I was put on this Earth to do. It's emotionally fulfilling, it satisfies my interests, it has social gravitas, and it pays well. It's in a field of work where positions are notoriously difficult to get. I've been lucky.

The problem: It took so long to get here that something in me feels broken. 

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