“Risk analyst for a bank.” Why am I still humoring this man’s need for conversation? He nods, as if he knows exactly what that means. If you asked me what that meant four years ago when I was collecting my degree from the University of Toronto, I couldn’t have told you. But I was excited all the same when the job offer came through. It was my first step as a young professional female, the bottom rung of a corporate ladder in downtown Toronto. Half-decent pay with benefits and a pension, at a big bank. Plenty of boxes to check in the “good career” department, especially for a
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