Initially, my purpose in writing a blog was to purge the despair growing inside me after the assassination of my naivete in November. I wanted to focus on the facts and help educate others who recently pulled their heads out of the sand of silence. Three articles in, I’m not finding the voice I desperately crave. This post is self-indulgent. Bear with me while I ramble. A slow burning anger seethes in my blood. It lingers beneath the surface and rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times. My day job is in corporate America. I walk a thin line between the ingrained work ethic I assume came pre-packaged in my DNA and the desire to follow Johnny Paycheck’s immortal lyric, “Take this job and shove it.” I can’t find my way anymore. How do you marry the fact that you missed your calling, but you’re not sure what the original mission entailed? Since Trump’s election, self-reflection has brought me more questions, fewer answers. Most days I live and breathe politics. I consum...