When I was a junior in college I had a full time internship as a journalist covering Congress and The Supreme Court.
Every morning I’d wake up before the sun, drag my ass out of bed, throw on a wrinkled shirt and tie, walk past the rooms of my sleeping college roommates and head out the door into the cold.
I’d walk a couple blocks to a bus stop where I’d wait in the cold for a public bus to take me to the Metro station so I could take a 45-minute train ride down to DC.
Once there I’d walk a few blocks to an office, try to find some “news” to cover that day and hop on the Metro again to get to The Capitol and report that news.
I’d then go back to the office, write up the story, head back to the Metro, another 45-minute train ride followed by another bus ride and a walk home, returning once again in the dark to find my roommates still home after a day of video game playing and hanging out.
As someone who thought he wanted to be a political journalist, landing the opportunity to live this life was a privilege.
There was only one problem:
I hated it.
The internship, the lifestyle, the waking up early, the commuting, all of it.
I had the opportunity to see my future and realize I didn’t want it.
What a gift.
And all it cost me was a few months of sleep and fun.
In that moment (or those months), I realized I wanted no part of a 9 to 5 job I didn’t love.
That nothing – not even money – would ever matter more to me than pursuing work I was excited to do.
To this day I remember listening to the Dave Matthews Band song “Ants Marching” on my Walkman while walking through the Metro station and seeing all these miserable looking people heading to their jobs just like I was.
These lyrics rattling around my ears:
“He wakes up in the morning
Does his teeth, bite to eat and he’s rolling
Never changes a thing
The week ends, the week begins”
And then the chorus:
“Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die”
I decided then that wasn’t going to be my life.
Just over a year later I graduated and moved to Los Angeles where I had no job and knew no one.
But I knew what I didn’t want.
And that helped me find my way.
Never underestimate the value of figuring out what you DON’T want.