More is What I Want out of Life

In my senior year high school, my economics teacher Ms. Passy assigned as part of our final exam, an essay on “what you want out of life.”

This would constitute 1/3rd of our final grade. I took one look at the blank paper in front of me, wrote down a single word, and went back to staring aimlessly out of the window. When Ms. Passy realized I was the only kid in class not furiously scribbling, she asked me why I wasn’t working on my essay. I told her I’d finished.

Indignant, she told me to hand it in to be graded immediately, which I did. She took one look at the paper, one look at me, then looked back at my paper, reluctantly marked A-, and dismissed me from class. I treated myself to an espresso and a croissant as I walked over to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The word? “More.” Some things don’t change.

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