You know that sinking feeling when you realize you've been a hypocrite, even to yourself? I still remember sitting there, a young literature student, churning out a glowing analysis of a "classic" novel I thought was an absolute chore, all to get a good mark. It felt like a betrayal, like some kind of cowardice, even though the military had taught me to just DO THE JOB, no matter how much you disliked it. Now, all these years later, approaching retirement, I still wonder if I should have just been honest, if it would have mattered... if anyone would have cared.