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    April 4, 2026 · 10 min read

    Everything You're Dealing With Right Now Is Actually Job Training

    What a Chief Medical Officer told me about college, failure, and why the dining hall matters more than you think

    Everything You're Dealing With Right Now Is Actually Job Training

    Most advice from successful people sounds good in the moment and then disappears. You nod, you feel inspired, and then you go back to your life and nothing changes. I did not want that to happen after my conversation with Dr. Ted Boyse, Chief Medical Officer at Duke Raleigh Hospital.

    Ted is 54, a radiologist by training, and has spent the last four years running physician operations at a large hospital. But what made the conversation worth having was not his resume. It was that he was honest about the parts that did not go according to plan. He did not get the CMO job the first time he applied. He struggled through prerequisite courses in college. He spent a summer cleaning operating rooms between cases just to get close enough to watch surgeons work. He described hitting a wall ten years into a successful medical career and not knowing what to do about it. The path that looks clean from the outside was a lot messier from where he was standing, and he did not try to hide that.

    So instead of just writing down what he said, I went back through it and tried to answer the question nobody ever bothers to answer: okay, but what do I actually do with this?

    Here is what I came up with.


    Stop observing yourself accidentally. Start doing it on purpose.

    Ted said the most important job at your age is figuring out who you are, not who you want to be eventually, but who you actually are right now. The problem is most people never slow down long enough to notice.

    So try this: at the end of each week, write down three observations about yourself. Not goals, just observations. Things like: I had more energy in the small group than in the big lecture. I procrastinated the reading but knocked out the problem set in one sitting. I felt relieved when plans got cancelled. I felt better after I helped someone with something. Do that for a month and you will know more about yourself than most people figure out in years.


    Go to one meeting of one thing you would normally skip.

    Ted's regret was not that he joined the wrong clubs at Duke. It was that he assumed the clubs were for other people and never walked through the door. That assumption cost him experiences he cannot get back, and he has thought about it for thirty years.

    You have the same bulletin board in front of you right now. Showing up to one meeting costs you about 90 minutes. You are not committing to anything, you are not declaring a new identity, you are just seeing what is in the room. Go find out.


    The next time someone tells you something, ask one real follow-up question before you respond.

    Most people listen long enough to figure out what they want to say next. Ted's point was that real listening means asking a follow-up question that shows you actually want to know more. Something like "what did you mean by that?" or "how did that end up?" or just "tell me more about that."

    When someone shares something with you, they are usually sharing the surface version. The real thing is almost always underneath, and they will give it to you if you show them you are actually interested. That skill travels with you into every job and every important relationship you will ever have, and the low-stakes conversations you are having right now are the best place to build it.


    Do one small thing for someone this week that they did not ask for.

    Ted built trust with an entire hospital's physician staff by noticing small problems that were not technically his responsibility and taking care of them before anyone had to ask. Trust does not come from big moments, it comes from small ones repeated over a long period of time.

    The college version of this is simple. Bring your roommate coffee when they are having a rough week. Send someone an article they would actually care about. Offer to help with something before anyone has to ask. None of it feels significant in the moment, but it adds up faster than you think.


    When you get rejected from something, give yourself 48 hours and then ask what it makes possible.

    You are going to get rejected from things. Jobs, programs, friend groups, people you like. It is going to feel personal every time even when it is not, and no amount of being told that in advance makes it feel better when it happens.

    Ted applied for his dream role at 41, lost to another candidate, spent eight years building skills he did not have yet, and got the job at 50. He genuinely believes the rejection led him somewhere better than getting it would have. You do not have to believe that in the moment. Just try asking the question 48 hours later: what does this open up that was not open before? Sometimes the answer is nothing useful. But sometimes it surprises you.


    Pick one thing in front of you right now and actually show up to it.

    Ted's advice about not trying to solve your life at 35 while you are living it at 19 is harder to follow than it sounds, because most of us are always partially somewhere else in our heads, thinking about what comes next, whether we are behind, whether the decisions we are making right now are going to matter.

    The practical version is just this: pick one thing in front of you, a class, a job, a project, a friendship, and bring your real attention to it. Not because it will definitely pay off later, but because the habit of showing up to your own life is worth building now, and you build it by practicing on the ordinary stuff first.


    On the hard days, just try to make the next one a little better.

    Ted said a bad day is not a cumulative score. Some days you are going to be focused and kind and feel like you are doing everything right. Other days you are going to be tired and short and not the version of yourself you are trying to be. One bad week does not mean you are behind, and it does not cancel out everything that came before it.

    The only job when things go sideways is to wake up the next morning and try again. It sounds simple, but there is a version of college and early career life where one hard stretch convinces you that you are not cut out for this, or that everyone around you is handling it better than you are. Ted has two daughters in college and he sees it play out. His message, delivered pretty plainly, was that you are probably doing better than you think, and a bad day is just a bad day.

    Start fresh tomorrow. That is enough.


    The Long Game is a podcast for college students and young adults figuring out what comes next. New episodes drop regularly wherever you listen.