As far as I can tell, everything being done here is being done right. Good people, good support system, good office space, no problems.
I spent the time at my first job bemoaning a major intelligence deficeit, and at the second, an overabundance of insolence and general malaise. Stupid people working vs. smart people being lazy.
I longed for a job without those troubles. A place where smart people worked.
Well, I found it.
And it sucks.
I know, I know, none of you are surprised. "Welcome to the real world, Tom," you say. And "Took you this long to figure it out?"
Excuse me for being optimistic. Hey, I've watched enough television to know how things are supposed to work. People quit jobs they hate, then magically find a job they love.
Rachel hated working for Joanna, and then got a fabulous job at Ralph Lauren. Joey was in terrible play after terrible play, then found fame and fortune on the soap circuit. Monica had to wear fake boobs and roller skates to bus tables, and ended up with her own resturant. Chandler processed numbers for a large, multi-national data firm, quit, and then got hired with no experience for a job supervising at a major New York ad agency.
So come on. It's been two years (it's been two years, right? It feels like so...much...longer) and I've done the fake boobs thing (metaphorically), I've put in my number crunching time, where's my fabulous job?
"Stop griping," you say. "We all hate our jobs. It doesn't get any better than this, ever."
Well, aren'y you little miss happy-face.
I'm reminded of a drew Carey quote:
"Wait, you hate your job? There's a club for people like you! It's called everyone! - and they meet at the bar."
Come on! Somebody out there likes their job...right? If not, then where did this myth of a good job come from? Because that's what you're saying, you're saying it's a myth!
Well, I don't know about you, but myths are based in fact. Little Red Riding Hood did where red, fat though she may have been. Cinderella did, in fact, have a godmother, though "fairy" might be a stretch. Pigs make excellent stone masons.
I am being starved for meaningful human contact. IM was a lifeline, one thin strand connecting me to the outside world, but I've lost even that. Now I'm dependent on a closely-monitored email account, and one-way blog posting. I remember when I had access to gmail. I REMEMBER WHEN I HAD ACCESS TO PEOPLE!!
Now I just have access to numbers. They're not even cool numbers.
-t
recommended downloads:
Fountains of Wayne, Hey, Julie
Oasis, Hey, Hey, My, My (Neil Young cover)
2 comments:
I've liked all my jobs (except for one, which I promptly quit). Not in an "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm getting paid to taste beer and review restaurants with Clive Owen!" kind of way, more like a "Hey, this isn't so bad most of the time." sort of way. The downside is that the "interesting work with fun people" jobs tend to be pretty low on the pay scale.
Quit. Try something completely new and different, and with unlimited internet access.
Either that, or remember the wise words of Monty Python: Always look on the bright side of life. You could be the guy who cleans urinals at Fenway Park.
Chandler did not get a job supervising at a major ad agency - he was hired as a junior copywriter at a New York ad agency.
Remember how much your first job paid? In the real world, Chandler wouldn't be making even close to that as a junior copywriter and he would be logging way more hours in one day than most of us actually work in a week.
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