I've already got Friday on my mind
I got home from work at midnight tonight. I had lost again. It wasn't even close, really. Just another forgettable defeat, final score like 24-10. Maybe I nearly tied it in the third quarter before having an interception returned for a score that put it out of reach, or maybe it was 24-3 until our side scored a late and meaningless touchdown, I don't remember.
As soon as I walked into the house, I poured myself a glass of water and sat down on the couch. It was the first chance I'd had all day to relax, to take a deep breath and selfishly enjoy a few thoughts that were just for me. I wanted to think about something soothing and vague, like a green field or a sunset or a breeze blowing on my balls through a screen door. Something to make me feel happy enough to go to sleep while requiring almost no concentration or mental commitment on my part. But instead I had a quick moment of: what the fuck am I doing? Should I get a new job?
I mean a whole new field. A new industry. A new setting. New co-workers. New jargon. New tools of the trade. New commute.
It could be done, I reasoned. People change careers all the time, some of them even do it when they're 50 or 60. It's not too late. I had always thought of these career-changers as damaged goods somehow, and I subconsciously lumped them into two categories:
1) Dreamers who had drifted from job to job, industry to industry, never figuring out a career, never achieving financial stability, always assuming something better was just around the corner.
2) People who did something for a long period of time, moved up the ladder, found financial success, only to suddenly realize that their job was soulless and their life to that point had been a complete waste of time.
I guess if I had to categorize myself I'd be a little bit of both. I kind of accidented my way into a job, assuming it was temporary while I figured some stuff out, and then I looked up at the calendar and Holy Smokes it's 15 years later.
And with that number in mind I realize that changing a career for any reason at all takes real guts. It's the move of a winner, the move of someone who, in the words of Mr. Brucey Springsteen, ain't gonna take what they're handing out.
Do I like what I do? Sometimes. I love working with cool people and cracking terrible jokes and the general sense that we are a team and we can do it if we all pull together. I like office pools* and cheap gossip and I enjoy the creative side of my job when it works well.** I am so scatterbrained that the office environment is probably helpful to me in terms of giving my day structure. I like that we turn out a new edition of the product every day so mistakes don't stay with you too long.
But here are some things that suck:
-the hours
-the stress
-the relentlessness
-the low margin for error
-the hours
-the all-consumingness
-the unnecessary sense of importance and urgency
-the hours
-the impact it has on my family
Per my contract, I can't leave for the next 2 years even if I wanted to, which gives me plenty of time to rethink my career...before ultimately deciding to do nothing.
I think the simplest thing to do is use a process of elimination, to rule out all the jobs I just won't ever do for one reason or another. Here are my first few definite non-new-careers:
-President
-Sea Captain
-Athlete
-Gambler
-Scientist
-Doctor
-Weatherman
-Fisherman
-Bookie/Pimp/Pusher***
-Blues Singer
-Butcher
-Taxi Driver
-Cop/Fireman/EMT
-Farmer
-Lawyer
And there are some jobs I simply can't bring myself to eliminate. The possibles:
-Bartender
-Night Watchman
-Therapist (seems farfetched, but my old therapist ran a car parts store for 20 years before switching careers)
-Life Coach (I just love this title, it's a perfect combination of self-importance and meaninglessness)
-Expert
-Consultant
-Hanger-on
-Catcher of tennis balls thrown out of car windows
-Payroll Error
Any suggestions of things I might be able to do -- or things I should avoid at all costs -- would be appreciated.
*I won my first ever NCAA pool today, $280
** And sometimes even when it doesn't. Today I attempted to use The Cars' "Moving in Stereo" to score a scene of a middle aged woman climbing out of a pool in a bikini. The bosses rejected it on a number of levels, but I still loved it.
*** Note my old man lingo.
As soon as I walked into the house, I poured myself a glass of water and sat down on the couch. It was the first chance I'd had all day to relax, to take a deep breath and selfishly enjoy a few thoughts that were just for me. I wanted to think about something soothing and vague, like a green field or a sunset or a breeze blowing on my balls through a screen door. Something to make me feel happy enough to go to sleep while requiring almost no concentration or mental commitment on my part. But instead I had a quick moment of: what the fuck am I doing? Should I get a new job?
I mean a whole new field. A new industry. A new setting. New co-workers. New jargon. New tools of the trade. New commute.
It could be done, I reasoned. People change careers all the time, some of them even do it when they're 50 or 60. It's not too late. I had always thought of these career-changers as damaged goods somehow, and I subconsciously lumped them into two categories:
1) Dreamers who had drifted from job to job, industry to industry, never figuring out a career, never achieving financial stability, always assuming something better was just around the corner.
2) People who did something for a long period of time, moved up the ladder, found financial success, only to suddenly realize that their job was soulless and their life to that point had been a complete waste of time.
I guess if I had to categorize myself I'd be a little bit of both. I kind of accidented my way into a job, assuming it was temporary while I figured some stuff out, and then I looked up at the calendar and Holy Smokes it's 15 years later.
And with that number in mind I realize that changing a career for any reason at all takes real guts. It's the move of a winner, the move of someone who, in the words of Mr. Brucey Springsteen, ain't gonna take what they're handing out.
Do I like what I do? Sometimes. I love working with cool people and cracking terrible jokes and the general sense that we are a team and we can do it if we all pull together. I like office pools* and cheap gossip and I enjoy the creative side of my job when it works well.** I am so scatterbrained that the office environment is probably helpful to me in terms of giving my day structure. I like that we turn out a new edition of the product every day so mistakes don't stay with you too long.
But here are some things that suck:
-the hours
-the stress
-the relentlessness
-the low margin for error
-the hours
-the all-consumingness
-the unnecessary sense of importance and urgency
-the hours
-the impact it has on my family
Per my contract, I can't leave for the next 2 years even if I wanted to, which gives me plenty of time to rethink my career...before ultimately deciding to do nothing.
I think the simplest thing to do is use a process of elimination, to rule out all the jobs I just won't ever do for one reason or another. Here are my first few definite non-new-careers:
-President
-Sea Captain
-Athlete
-Gambler
-Scientist
-Doctor
-Weatherman
-Fisherman
-Bookie/Pimp/Pusher***
-Blues Singer
-Butcher
-Taxi Driver
-Cop/Fireman/EMT
-Farmer
-Lawyer
And there are some jobs I simply can't bring myself to eliminate. The possibles:
-Bartender
-Night Watchman
-Therapist (seems farfetched, but my old therapist ran a car parts store for 20 years before switching careers)
-Life Coach (I just love this title, it's a perfect combination of self-importance and meaninglessness)
-Expert
-Consultant
-Hanger-on
-Catcher of tennis balls thrown out of car windows
-Payroll Error
Any suggestions of things I might be able to do -- or things I should avoid at all costs -- would be appreciated.
*I won my first ever NCAA pool today, $280
** And sometimes even when it doesn't. Today I attempted to use The Cars' "Moving in Stereo" to score a scene of a middle aged woman climbing out of a pool in a bikini. The bosses rejected it on a number of levels, but I still loved it.
*** Note my old man lingo.
Labels: brucey springsteen, job
posted by hans q. bungle at 02:32
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