There, I came across a cluster of NYU graduates standing in cap and gown. They were laughing and posing for photos. Was it June again already? Their voices echoed through the subway tunnel. “Congratulations!” “Congratulations!” their parents said. And I wanted to yell, “Don’t do it! Go back! You don’t know what it’s like!”Whether passed out drunk at The New Yorker where she’s interning; assigning Cliffs Notes when hired to teach humanities at a local college; getting banned from a...