I’m writing right now to keep myself from lying on middle of my bedroom floor and breaking down.
That happens sometimes. Twice a year, maybe? Happened a little more frequently when work was consistently terrible for about two months and I was literally a week away from suddenly quitting.
But that’s something I’ve noticed. The times I get this feeling–like I’ve just been punched in the gut by George Foreman–usually come after a particularly annoying day of work. And it breaks my hear that that’s the case.
I know people that love their job. They’re surrounded by people who work hard and care about what they do. I–on the other hand–have spent the last six years (almost) in retail. And that’s not a fact that bothers me. It’s the path I’ve chosen and I’ll stand by my decisions. But the problem with retail is that retail doesn’t hire for passion, drive, or the ability to learn and grow. Retail hires to fill empty roster spots.
I’m one of those weirdos who doesn’t have a “dream job.” There are certain roles I think I’d do well that are either huge stretches to ever happen (chief of staff for a politician; COO at a decent-sized company) or others that I have no interest jumping through hoops to get to (attorney; mayor of San Francisco).
And while I lack a dream job, I have an ideal situation. It’s simple, too. I want to work around people who work hard, communicate, and have a level of pride in their work. I don’t think that seems like something that should be overly difficult to find, but six years and dozens (if not over 100) of job interviews later, here I am.
Maybe there’s something I’m missing about the professional world. Maybe I’m shooting myself in the foot all the time and have no idea. Maybe I’m just a massive underachiever. I have no idea. But that ideal situation is something I’m not going to stop reaching for. I can’t afford to give up the hunt.