Or maybe ever.
I said before that I used to have a super-creative, fun job
in journalism. And without going into details, it was the best freaking job ever. The job I went to school to do. The job that gave me (minimal) fame, and tons of amazing perks.
I honestly thought I would be doing that forever, but when our company was essentially shut down, I was sent scrambling for a new job.
I found another job.
In another field.
When they offered me the position, I took it happily.
But inside, I wondered if I was doing the right thing.
The money was better, but I was worried I would get bored being a management-type. That I wouldn’t get a chance to be creative. That I would be trading my special talents for my ability to organize and write tidy e-mails.
But Darling Husband and I were just months away from our wedding. We needed a second income. We had the mortgage and car payments and a zillion other grown-up bills.
I took the job.
It was — and is — a good job. Very busy, but I like a good pace. Even though it was a completely new field, I picked it up quickly. My colleagues were (are) really great. I moved up the ladder a bit.
But it was kind of like … being an assistant manager in a boutique, after a long stint of being the clothing designer. Fast-paced but monotonous. The ability to excel at your job, but then realize that your entire job is just ensuring that the creative types are happy/organized/on track/on budget/meeting deadlines.
I used to be one of thoes creative types.
And now I’m catering to them.
Scheduling and organizing them.
And when I have a creative suggestion?
They look at me like I’m just a secretary.
You can see how this is a problem.
For months now, I have been trying to change my attitude and reason with myself that maybe this is just what working life is like. Maybe it’s normal to feel your job is lacking a spark. Maybe I was spoiled by my first job, getting to write about whatever the hell I wanted and getting snazzy media passes that made me feel like a big-shot.
But then I realized that I’m only 25. If I start settling now, I’m going to have a very depressing career ahead of me. Some people change careers and go back to school in their 40s and 50s. They work for 20 years as a lawyer, and then wake up and decide they want to teach — so that’s what they do. Very inspiring.
So today, in the midst of a blah-as-usual Monday afternoon, I was finally honest with myself. This job is a good job, and while I’m proud to be doing it, it’s not for me. Just because I’m good at it, doesn’t mean it’s what I should be doing.
I’m a writer, and that’s what I need to be.