02.06.09
Here’s Something
I told you that I GOT a job, in my field, for not minimum wage, but did I tell you that I love it? Yes. I, me, jeci, am one of Those People. You know, you hear about them, the people who love their jobs, and you think a) “…Really? Are they, like, workaholics/sociopaths/some kind of misanthrope?” or b) “It sure would be nice to be a Hollywood movie star/professional athlete/Bono.” But no, it CAN happen. Even to me. Me (I?), who hates working in an office. Me who hates getting up in the morning. Me who hates dressing up or paying attention in meetings or pretending that I care about whether we should go with what the Chicago Manual of Style says this year on bolding the colon after a bolded “Note.” (In case you haven’t heard, bolded colons are out. It’s all about letting bolded words stand on their own two feet these days. Be strong, “Notes” of the world!) (Aside: Am I the only one who pictures the editors of the Chicago sitting around a boardroom table having heated debates about these things until finally reaching a consensus based on the persuasive evidence brought forth by one rogue editor? Because why do these things change? Why does the treatment of a colon change from year to year?)
Anyway, I’m telling you this now for a couple of reasons. First, because it’s true. And let’s just dwell here for a moment, shall we? Here in the happy now I mean. I love my job because, well, there are many reasons. List time!
- I can come in anytime before 10:00. As a result, I now wake up at roughly the time I had to be at my desk for my last office job. And quite unlike my last job, I am both well-rested AND nobody is giving me the side-eye when I’m rushing in panicked and grumpy because I’m four minutes late because there is no such thing as four minutes late. You come in when you come in, and you leave when you leave. You know, in manner of a woman who has been out of her nappies for quite some time now.
- Come to think of it, nobody has given me the side-eye ever at this new job. Again, quite unlike my last job, where many messages were communicated via the vehemence or frequency of the side-eye.
- I don’t really have to dress up. Jeans every day might be pushing it…but then again it might not. I go for cords or khakis most days. Never heels. Never, ever, ever, ever. In fact, I somehow hurt my toe (I must have stubbed it and promptly forgotten about it, because I have no recollection of how I actually obtained the injury) and my toenail fell off (I hope you weren’t eating just now) and I haven’t been able to wear anything but sneakers for the last three months and, again, no side-eye. In fact, the other day my boss kind of playfully stepped on my foot and said “Hey! Cute kicks!”
- If I swear, it really doesn’t matter. You have NO IDEA how relieving this is for a sailor mouth like me.
- Drum roll please: I have my own office. Yes. This is a first for me and it’s ridiculous how much better life is. When people are forgetting to use their inside voices or, even more to the point, when I don’t feel like human interaction for any amount of time, I can just…CLOSE MY DOOR. Genius.
- I enjoy my co-workers. They’re creative and professional and I learn something from each and every one of them every day.
- My boss is, like, a fireball of positivity. She plays to people’s strengths and we all shine as a result. Granted, she won’t hesitate to tell you to sack up if you need to stop whining…but all the same. It has been a long time since I’ve had a boss with whom I can be both chummy and from whom I could learn (that’s a shout out, Sylvia, if you’re reading!).
- My office is a 15 minutes walk from my apartment. Life doesn’t get much simpler than that.
- Another drum roll please: I get four weeks’ vacation. To start. It’s like living in Europe!
- I also get every third Friday off. (My work has apparently figured out the old secret that the less time we have to actually spend at work, the more we’ll get done.)
- I, of course, get benefits. And these benefits include unlimited massages. Word.
- Oh, and, I actually kinda like what I do. I would have been the last person to guess that writing public legal education materials would be so interesting and gratifying…but it really is. It’s amazing how knowing that what you’re doing is helping people—that at least trying to give a voice to people who are marginalized and lost in the system—can make wading through an acre of legalese and translating it into English rather exciting and fun.
So there’s all that. In short, it’s just a damn good fit and I feel so. very. relieved and blessed to have found it.
The other thing, though, is that I was beginning to worry about me. About how sour and embittered and cynical I was about working. (Case in point: here and here.) Which is not to say that I was one of those people who felt like I shouldn’t HAVE to work or that I was entitled to anything I hadn’t earned. It wasn’t anything like that because…well, I’m not retarded. (Food costs money. I need to eat food. Therefore, I need money. Therefore, I need to work. Until I am able to re-invent all of Western society, dwelling on this reality is a delusional waste of energy.) But, I had been so bored and restless or downright horrified by the human race as a result of my other jobs and had been miserable in this regard for so long that, well, I was worried that it was ME.
You know how, at some point after a certain number of shitty and failed relationships, you just have to ask yourself whether it IS you? Like, sure, dating some cheating bastard and breaking up with him because he stepped out on you is not technically your fault…but how many cheating bastards can you date before you start to wonder JUST A LITTLE about your taste in men? So I was at that place, the cynical place where on the one hand you’re like “I didn’t like that job because it SUCKED” but you’re also like “…But why do all my jobs suck? Is it my attitude? Because it FELT like I tried.” So, again, I am immensely relieved to know that I do, in fact, have the right attitude…it just has to be appreciated in order for me to sustain it. (And thank Goddess I didn’t lose my positive attitude after all!) I like not being cynical so much more.
But there’s a final thing to all of this. And that final thing is that despite it all coming up roses and feeling so right, it might not last. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there’s, like, this global economic crisis going on? So we’ve had our first round of layoffs. And it sucked. Because of course it did. We lost an amazing member of our team and one of our managers. And my boss’s job is in jeopardy as we speak (we’ll find out next week) and it will break my heart if she goes. And after all THAT there is yet another round of layoffs to go in the summer.
My initial instinct when all this went down was to jump ship. I mean, they tell you the ship is sinking and you don’t linger on the poop deck (heh) taking in the view, right? But then, first of all, how stupid would it be to walk out of a job you love when nobody knows better than you how hard it is to find meaningful, not stab-me-in-the-face-please work? Add to that the fact that EVERY ship in the whole damn ocean is sinking and nobody is sending out life boats and, well, it just seems like the prudent thing to do is stay put and hope for the goddamn best. Because the best actually does happen from time to time, doesn’t it? And I’d like to be there when it does.
I was going to write about my love affair with my new job weeks ago, as part of my New Year’s post. And then the rug got pulled out from under me a bit and I lost the heart. But I’m doing it now because no matter what happens next week, or the week after, or the month after, I want to remember that this did really happen, I was really happy, and I am capable of feeling fulfilled and of going in every morning and feeling like I have something to offer. And I don’t want to settle for anything less. (Which: Ha! “Want to” doesn’t often come up in one’s grown-up, employment-related choices, does it?)