The Catholics had it wrong, Purgatory is here...on Earth...Seriously!

So anyway, I've come to two conclusions. One: I must have a chemical dependency on higher education; and two: I'm a glutton for punishment. Let me explain...after seven long years obtaining two degrees and having spent literally thousands of government dollars, I still want more. I've been in the "real" world for three years now and I've decided the "real" people can keep it. I say that, but in the end, I'll still be doing the 8 to 5 grind until I'm in a better position to take a chance and make a change in my life. My mom said something very interesting to me the other day. We were discussing the complete and total absurdity of the company we work for (we as well as my wife work for the same bank), and how completely insane it's making us. During the conversation, she told me that my dad was fond of saying, "Never work for someone who isn't at least as smart as you are". To me, that is such a profound statement, especially in that it's so simple, and really not that profound at all. Once you start dealing with those of us who have I.Q.'s exceeding the 160 range, the ideal within the statement becomes difficult if not nearly impossible to achieve. But considering the source, it's absolutely brilliant. My father wasn't a genius, point of fact he dropped out of school after the 8th grade, but he was very intelligent. He didn't read well but he was well read, and he had enough sense to realize quickly that he'd made a huge error in his life and obtained his GED. And prior to his death, he had already completed a year and a half of a degree in Psychology. So how the hell does any of this relate? Let me further explain. Like I said, I work for a bank. I tell people that and they immediately ask, "Oh, so are you a teller?". There's my first problem. Fuck you! Do I look that stupid (that's rhetorical, by the way)? Not to begrudge the tellers of the world, but seriously, don't I at least appear as someone who could do better? Stepping back for a second, I'll admit, on my bank's job grading scale, my current position is only four steps above a teller anyway, but still, it's all in the principle. Obviously, I must be a masochist. I always considered myself a lifelong, card carrying, certified (or certifiable) sadist. But this just can't be, only a masochist would return daily to the bullshit factory that is the bank I work for. From an analogous standpoint, I am Stephen Hawking, whereas those I work for are more comparable to say...Forrest Gump. That's the kind of gap I'm talking about here. The people I work for (and with, for the most part) are mental midgets at best. But I keep coming back to them...this friends, is the true Purgatory. What is the grievous sin I'm atoning for that's forcing me to put up with this day after day. Did I kick someone's dog in another life? Do the gods have incriminating pictures of me slapping babies playing football with satan? What the hell did I do? You know what it is...see the bank is like a methodone clinic that keeps handing out heroin, and I'm a junky. What I need, as Huey Lewis put it, is a new drug. If the b.s. factory is giving me the H, then college must be LSD, and dammit I'd much rather be trippin'. I'm Jones'in man I AM JONES'IN!