College grads circa 1892.
I clearly remember the excitement and difficulties of my first year or two out of college. There was one day in particular — I remember feeling things couldn’t get any worse (which, I now believe, is never true, things can always get worse, and conversely, they can always get better). That particular day in 1993 I had no job, no car, and nowhere to live (I was staying at my mom’s place in Berkeley in a spare room). My recently completed undergraduate degree was in Rhetoric & Communications — not exactly a fast track to a lucrative career. My prospects were poor, and what I remember about that particular day was that two different girls dumped me. Should I even try to explain that? I don’t think so. At the time it felt like icing on the cake — my cake of personal misery.