When I graduated from college, I tucked my psychology degree under my arm and set out into the world hoping to help turn some lives around.

I soon discovered that although my degree usually got me in the door, finding a place to settle was another matter.

My first job was doomed when my expectations met their reality. It lasted less than a year, I think. For the following summer, I had two jobs, part time at a day care center and cold-call phone soliciting for a nonprofit. It was as bleak as it sounds.

Then I found a fulltime job in customer service. In an office, with my own desk. It seemed so civilized. It was one of those international aid organizations, where people could pay so much per month to sponsor a child in a developing nation. They could write letters and send photos, and they would receive, from the child they were sponsoring, letters and photos in return.

The sponsors would mail their letters to the organization, which would forward them to staff in the field where they would be translated for the child, who then would be encouraged to write back, through a translator. As you may imagine, this had the potential for disaster.

That's where we came in. It was the job of the folks in customer service to respond to sponsors who wanted to know why they never received any letters, even though they wrote frequently; or why the letter they had received thanked them for the photo of their dog, when in fact they had sent a photo of their three cats; or why they received a letter from Felipe in Guatemala when they had been told they were sponsoring Agata in Ecuador.

I like to think of that job as my first foray into creative writing.

It was a good job though. They treated me well and I worked with some funny, kind, smart people, one of whom turned me on to columnist and author Jane Brody, and in particular, to her recipe for oatmeal-raisin muffins.

I've been making these muffins ever since. We're talking decades. They satisfy my sweet tooth — the plump golden raisins offset the buttermilk tang — but with the oatmeal and wheat germ, they feel substantial, more like a meal than dessert.

The original recipe calls for creaming the butter and sugar, adding the egg, then alternating additions of dry and wet ingredients, stirring all the while. But that method results in a flat, joyless muffin. All that stirring completely counteracts the lift that the baking powder and the baking soda-buttermilk combo are trying to provide. So I opt for more of a quick-bread technique. Add all the dry ingredients to all the wet ingredients, stir just to combine, then step back and watch your muffins rise.

I recommend eating them warm, with a bit of butter and a drizzle of honey.

Enjoy!