A couple of years ago, I used to work for one of the major oil and gas companies. The work I did in my first assignment was interesting, and I met amazing people. I could see myself working there the rest of my career and becoming a subject matter expert. It was a somewhat prestigious job, I lived pretty cushy, and I put the rest of my earnings away in retirement and savings. It was supposed to be the ideal life for a white collar professional.

And I was miserable. I couldn't see it until I left the job, and by that point, I was in a horrible place mentally. I worked remotely for a bit before leaving, and my closest friend back in the city said I was the happiest she'd seen me in a long time. Before the pandemic I had been a fairly heavy drinker, and was already trying to cut back, but during the pandemic it turned into full blown alcoholism. I couldn't feel relaxed on the weekends unless I "took the edge off". I also couldn't focus well at work, thanks to hidden ADHD that I had been able to mask as a student with my drive. It became a much bigger factor from the pandemic onwards.

I could keep going but I think you get the idea. I spent those years living to work and neglecting my mental state. I was a zombie, a shell of myself wearing a mask for the public. I already knew that money didn't buy happiness, but it turns out, prestige doesn't either. Being successful as society defines it doesn't bring you purpose or joy or fulfillment.

You've got a lot of time ahead of you. The only thing that's a waste of time is spending too long worrying about if you've wasted your time and being so distracted by it that you miss out on the present. Take each day as it comes, pursue your plans, and be ready for your plans to take a detour. The best laid plans of mice and men go awry.

Choose what you can't not do.