“The only sin passion can commit is to be joyless.” Dorothy L. Sayers
Those of you who are Facebook friends with me maybe took note of my brash status update the other day. Here’s a recap, if you sadly missed it:
“Someone who recently unfriended me on FB (gasp, why yes my feelings are crushed!) tried to tell me something.
“Having a job is a promotion, nowadays.”
I can say that I’m nearly certain that is complete and utter bull-plop. So, in short, I’ll miss your pathetic attempts at wisdom (read:drivel).
Just because you’re older doesn’t make you smarter. Peace, bitch.”
Where in the world is this bitterness coming from?! I’m almost NEVER like this, right? *eye roll*
career job at the local government agency I recently held has come to an end. After all my bitching (the culmination of which will be a strongly-worded, unsolicited letter to the “powers that be” there) and complaining to everyone I work with, I’ve left. Months ago, when my coworker uttered the gem of advice cited above to me, it immediately didn’t sit well. I had been in the midst of one of my gripe-fests about how essentially everything at this agency is akin to the seventh circle of hell (probably not that far off, for a hyperbole). I assume the person said it as a meager attempt to quell my disillusioned mind but it kind of backfired. I mean, here’s an adult for whom I had feigned respect (it had been turning into real respect, though!) telling me something that basically negated what I had been told prior to this. What I took from the puzzling utterance was this: you should consider yourself lucky to have a job wherein you’re so goddamned miserable. No one, including you, deserves a raise and you’re better off than most people who don’t have a job.
Well, I’m currently unemployed and it feels pretty f*cking good. I’m no longer tied to a job I hated going to literally every day…I’m not feeling trapped in a box latched so tightly I can’t breathe just for a paycheck. And yes, I needed(ish) that job, and I need *a* job but right now, writing at my leisure, brainstorming for a collaborative (not really a collaboration…I’m just fortunate enough to know someone who digs the way I write) project and concentrating on my upcoming tests for a paid fire fighter position is satisfying. Yes, satisfying.
I think part of being a functioning part of society that’s worth a damn means not getting comfortable and striving to be better (or maybe it’s just the artist in me). This isn’t to say being better equates to happiness. Even though I was miserable at my last job, I was generally a happy person. I think when we become okay with having a shitty job, even when we make the best of it, a part of us dies inside. We have a responsibility to ourselves to keep reaching and pushing the bullshit aside to get what we want…we owe it to our hearts.
So, I quit a completely lucrative job to seek a “promotion” of sorts. Firstly, I get to live with my husband again. This will be nice as…you know…married people usually do. Second, as I mentioned, I wasn’t happy where I was and there are HUGE problems with the agency, as a whole that very seriously and specifically affected my division…not okay with me. So, I’m actively putting myself in a position where I might attain something better. Who knows, it may be just as bad (I HIGHLY effing doubt it) but I don’t know until I give it a shot. Third, I’m spending time writing and preparing to be a paid writer. A PAID WRITER. No matter how much or by whom or in what capacity…this is a huge deal and I don’t think it would have worked out as well had I not stopped what I was doing before.
Having a job is a promotion? Please. Sounds more like an excuse or a piss-poor bargain you made with yourself. A promotion is a promotion – being recognized and compensated (monetarily or otherwise) for doing well, working faster and harder, improving and never being too comfortable with what you’re distributing to the world. I think I’m on a
good better track for one, now.