Can't think of a Headline

I have changed seven jobs in as many years. And if things go as planned, the eighth one is looming on the horizon. Am I nervous because of my track record? More importantly, should I be? I don’t know. After all, I have known people working in the same company for the past seven years and if I were in their place I’d have a lot many things to worry about, which I suspect they secretly do. But since a generation has been brainwashed into believing that working in one company is a sign of (sigh) consistency, it’s against conventional wisdom to express doubts, as you find the excel sheet cell stare right back at you with accusations.      

You truly enter the 30s, when you reach thirty-two. You are then irrevocably, irreversibly and repentantly reconciled to the idea that the 30s can indeed be a much more interesting decade, depending on how the 20s were (mis)spent. For starters, you start being taken a bit more seriously at work, without you trying to look constipated, because there’s another (younger) generation joining the workforce, who are more confused than you and who can be bullied on demand. You start to grey a bit, which in the Indian context means that you have gained wisdom and hence can be relied with having learned the invaluable skill of saving you and your boss’s ass or at least forecast the need to do so.

You meet bright eyed youngsters with pride in their hearts and light in their eyes and you just go poof… and they flicker even as they seem to fade but they don’t die. And you see in them, what you once were and a bond is established, which you hope will carry on in the future.