At my job this summer, I'm "the software guy". What this means is that I work with mechanical and electrical engineers - I'm the only (professional) programmer of the bunch. What's nice about this is that it affords me some level of professional mystique; regardless of my actual skill as a programmer, I possess a skill set which my coworkers don't. In other words, I get to feel smart.

A similar situation existed at my first (real, non-butcher) job, where I was "the intern guy". The company had never hired an intern before, and while I didn't necessarily get to feel smart, I still had a circus-freakesque mystique. People were like, "Oh hey, it's the intern guy."

And last summer, I was "the model guy", not because I was modelling a new line of stylin' cargo pants, but because the tasks I was working on involved manipulation of 3D models, something that none of the full-time employees had devoted much time to.

So I can't help but wonder if I'm being woefully underprepared for working in the real world, where I might not enjoy the same kind of uniqueness I've had during my summer employments so far. What happens when I'm not "the something guy"? My intuition is that it'll be an entirely different experience.

Maybe this won't even be an issue. Currently, my (short- to medium-term) goal is to be "the usability guy" for some company. But tech companies are becoming increasingly usability-minded (fortunate for me as far as finding employment), so it's quite likely that wherever I end up working will have several usability guys, or even a usability department.

What I hope happens in these situations is that people are still unique, but for more specific reasons. Maybe I do think-alouds a lot, so I'm "the think-aloud guy" in the usability department. Or maybe when the lines are blurred professionally, personality differences come forward - so I'm "the chivalrous Greek prog-rocker", just like I am among my friends.

I've been thinking about work, and the future, all morning. As I was getting dressed, I spotted an e-mail message Adam had printed out and left on the dresser. It appeared to be a message regarding a job interview. Not being the snooping type, I didn't stop to read it, but the sentence I read as my glance passed over it said something like, "Be prepared to state your salary requirements."

This, more than anything else, is the one thing about the real world that I dread. In interviews for summer jobs, when the issue of salary has come up, I've usually said, "Well, it's not really an issue for me." Which is a stupid, stupid thing to say, even if it actually isn't an issue. Of course, this year I'm getting paid as much as my boss can afford to pay me, and last year the company had a standard rate for interns, so I don't think I've gotten screwed yet.

I really would like it not to be an issue, too. And I think if I was just living by myself, I could adjust my style of living to accommodate a fairly wide salary range. I think I'm pretty flexible. But one of these days, presumably, I'll have a wife to partially support. (I don't mean "support" as in "She stays home and vacuums while I go win the bread" - perish the thought - I'm talking more along the lines of "She may have certain lifestyle preferences, and she may go through periods of unemployment while she looks for her dream job, and I'd like to take part of that burden upon myself".) And, some day, hopefully a good amount of time after that, kids to raise. So one of these days, it's gonna have to matter.

I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can say to a potential employer, "This is what I think I'm worth, no less." It seems... immodest? Crass? I'm not sure. Furthermore, I'm afraid I'd either name some ridiculously high figure, leaving a bad taste in the employer's mouth, or worse, grossly underestimate myself, and end up not getting what I could be getting. Even though Jakob Nielsen recently posted a survey of the average salary of usability specialists, so I at least have some baseline to work with, that doesn't tell me how much any particular company is going to value what I have to offer.

My conclusion: I need to stop thinking about work.