Dear Miss I'm-Too-Educated-for-this-shitty-job,

I'm telling you this for your own good...

You're insane. Seriously. Yeah, you've got a bachelor's degree. Congratulations. So do I. So does over a quarter of this country. It's an accomplishment, I guess, but seriously, you're not a Nobel laureate. So get over yourself. Look. I'm sorry that the economy sucks and you have to work a job in the service industry. It's no fair, I know. I don't have the greatest job in the world either. But you don't have to make everyone's life a living hell because you're not fulfilling your potential. We feel mildly bad for you, but we want our coffee/new Nick Hornby book/cheap artwork without seeing your eyes rolling, or hearing your dramatic sigh, or feeling like we just whipped you and called you "boy." Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. And I didn't have to have a bachelor's degree, or 2+ years experience to figure that out.

You see, work is all in what you make it. You can seriously do anything--it won't kill you (unless of course it involves carcinogenic materials, or working with swords or something). So just smile and have a good time--you're making money, aren't you? It's not hard. Unless you work in an insurance company or something, you can probably find a compatriot who hates the job too, but can at least spice it up for you.

But for, crying out loud, don't be a bitch. I'm aware that you would rather be writing movie scripts or novels or something. But for God's sake. Get used to it. Writing takes talent, and well, let's hope your milk frothing is better than your forced metaphors.

With all the luck I can give,
Morg