I had been home from my mission a few months, and post-mission life had proved more difficult than I had thought.
Coming home, I thought I would conquer the world. I thought I was hot stuff and every girl at BYU would jump at a chance to go on a date with me. I thought I was so smart, school would be a breeze. I thought I was so competent I would easily find a high-paying job.
Months later, I found myself still single, working at a gas station, failing my organic chemistry class and not exactly conquering anything.
I noticed that many of my friends and acquaintances who had chosen not to serve missions seemed to have much better lives then I did. Many of them were dating exclusively or married and seemed to be having loads of fun with their significant others; at least that's what their Facebook posts made it look like. Many of them had rewarding jobs with good pay. One of them had started a business and was making six figures. The more I looked, the more it appeared that my mission had been a huge waste of time.
