Few weeks ago, as I was having dinner with Esther, Fumi and Craig to celebrate the close of our big - and my first - case, one of us brought up whether we enjoyed working better than school. We all agreed we did, though what Esther added startled me, "Working is great, though you tend to lose perspective. You know, when we start wearing suits we tend to inflate our importance. I bet you, if one day - phooof - I just disappear," she shrugged, "Manuel would be sad for a while, but he will survive. And Fred surely will find another consultant in no time." Manuel is Esther's boyfriend who she has dated for seven years, and Fred Dunbar is the founder of our securities practice, who often comments on Esther's efficiency.

The woman really got me thinking.

After two painful days of pure programming, I admitted she was right: should tomorrow comes and phoooff, I disappear, I wonder would anyone notice. Certainly not my landlord, since rent was just due last week.

A liberal art education really tries hard to pump our head that we are somebody, that little things we do in aggregation can have big impact, that we are at worst educated and responsible. Truth is, as I come to learn a little perspective, you and I are - no matter how much Nat King Cole insists - replaceable.

Replace-able. Re-p-la-ce-a-ble.
I repeated the word out loud several times, a little overwhelmed.

After dinner, I shrugged and accepted it. I thought of a de-motivational poster Mug once showed me with pictures of a million snowflakes captioned "Always remember that you are unique. Just like everyone else."

And so, tonight, lying in bed with mismatching socks and messy hair, I kind of just... disappear.