This was a real job. This was a big boy job. And this threw me for a loop: “Should I take this job? Is this my destiny? Am I the next great financial genius? Should I come up with a Plan B? Should I work in Boston for a few years and make enough money to have a cozy transition to New York?” Well, I have always had a half-baked philosophy that having a Plan B can muddy up your Plan A. I didn’t take the job. I moved to the city. I bussed tables. I lived in a basement apartment next to a garbage chute that was filled with cockroaches. And I could not have made a better decision.

Charlie Day, professional wild card, offers some advice to this year’s graduating class at his alma mater, Merrimack College. He also conveniently affirms my own Plan A. I’m not putting all my trust in Charlie. (C’mon, you’ve seen It’s Always Sunny, when has that ever been a wise plan?) But it’s always nice to hear that the darkened staircase I’ve chucked my future down also broke the bones of others along their way to success.

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