I admit I have been an emotional roller coaster since losing my job, one second I laugh, the next I cry.
I’m at the coffee shop where I’ve been perched on an uncomfortable stool at a counter for the past two hours researching jobs, sending out a resume, checking in on Twitter, Facebook, and Gawker to help pass the time, when I there it was at the top of Monster.com: Communications Manager. The job I was “discharged” from. Of course the description has been tweaked, which I can’t help but take personally.
“Proven superior writing and editing skills requiring little or no peer/manager review.” I’m sorry, but everything that goes to the public should have at least 2 pairs of eyes look at it. Maybe I should have made a bigger deal out of the typos I found in her and others printed materials…but I thought I was being the “bigger person.” I still pat myself on the back for the typos I found including the misspelling of “nonprofit” on a printed piece that was about to go to major foundations.
Hours: 8:30am-6:30 pm. Ironic since the boss only works four days a week in the office about 8 am – 3:30 pm (though she claims she works all the time offline. Sure). Let’s not forget I took a lunch hour maybe 5 times, the rest of the time I sat at my desk, nor did I have that much work to suck up 10 hours a day…oh the description also says “fast paced.” It was truly anything but. Not to mention now it’s a “temp to perm after 3 months position.” Smart, because now it outright says “I reserve the right to fire you.”
“…over-achieving traits in previous roles would be at home in this environment.” Read: snob. Do you think you’re smarter and better than those around you? Do you have an intellectual in notation in your voice? Do you feel the need to make others around you feel stupid (i.e. explain to someone with a Master’s degree in Nonprofit management the meaning of a 501C3?)?
I suppose I was hoping they would decide not to fulfill this role. That they would give serious consideration into looking into the boss’s management and (lack of) communications skills. I suppose I wanted her to get in some sort of trouble. It was a nightmare, and reading this assured me that I’m happy it’s over. I’m not happy I don’t have a job, but happy I don’t have to deal with the bull sh*t.
Here is what I bought at the bookstore today:
1. Finding Your Own North Star by Martha Beck
2. I Don’t Know What I Want, But I Know It’s Not This by Julie Jansen.
3. Granata Magazine. This issues theme: Work.
4. The Atlantic Monthly. The cover issue headline: The Recession’s Long Shadow
Yes, all of the above share a common theme. A theme I am all too familiar with and find fascinating yet fear. I learned yesterday my position will be eliminated at the end of this fiscal year. I have four months to find a job and get out. I was not surprised. I knew the day was coming. I actually feel a lot more relieved than devastated. Actually, I’m not really devastated at all. I’ve been in a work and pay plateau for two years now. I’ve been slowly looking for work for months, but now I really need to step it up. The problem-my life’s problem-I don’t know what I want to do. Though I’ve become good at marketing and public relations I’m sick of being a bull shitter for a living. But right now I feel it’s the only thing I know.
I’m not always gung-ho for self-help books, but there are valid exercises in both that I’m more than willing to explore. I’ve always said I don’t want my work to be my life, and I still feel that way, but I do want to be happy for the 40 hours I spend away from home. I do want to feel some sort of meaning, and if I don’t, I want to be paid considerably more to feel nothingness.
Life is a at a crossroads, but I’m really, surprisingly, okay. I feel confident that I will figure it out. Will I have crap days? Yes, of course. But I also feel strangely empowered to make even more changes in my life. So for a while, this blog, may become more of a spring-board of ideas about my future.
Welcome to my rollercoaster.
I’m only 31 so I know I’m still young, but sometimes you have those moments when you know you are getting older. Case in points:
1. A few moments ago I was reading my latest park district catalog thinking about taking a new class (currently taking “Adult Potter” and man, do I have a lot crap to pawn off on people), when I read a description for “Woodcarving.” Cool, I always wanted to whittle. After being seduced with words like “learn techniques to make carvings in wood from a 30 year veteran” (what can I say, I’m easy with little adjectives), I was ready to sign up. Then I noticed for ages 55 & older. I went on to be seduced by “Jewelry.” “From glass to ceramics learn how to make bracelets, necklaces, brooches and more!” Then once again noticed the bold for ages 55 & older.
2. I have too many gray hairs to count. Also, speaking of vanity-I went through my teen years and 20’s without wearing makeup on a daily basis. When I turned 31 I started putting on light makeup every weekday morning. Just a little tinted moisturizer, neutral shadow, bronzer, blush, and mascara. Why did I start wearing makeup daily you ask? I got tired of being telling me I looked tired! When you tell someone they look tired, you’re telling them they look like sh*t. We all know it. I make a conscious choice not tell people they look tired because I don’t want to hurt their feelings.
3. I don’t bounce back the way I used too after a few cocktails.
4. I can’t stand teenagers.
5. Music I once loved to listen to loud, is now, a bit too loud.
6. I just don’t care about petty crap anymore.
7. I just don’t really get embarrassed anymore.
8. I use eye cream and wrinkle-fighting eye cream.
9. I’m too tired to finish this list.
Filed under Humor, Musings
From Glee to tonight’s Grammy Awards, I deem this year: The Year of the Mash-Up.
Ahh, the (sometimes) genius of a great mash-up song–but I am hoping this year, my life will become a mash-up of sorts. I’m in need of massive change. I’m itching in my skin, bored with the routine and the recreation of the routine to shake up the previous one. I don’t care if there is a mash-up leading to a new job (which I’m really hoping for), or a mash-up in my romantic life (which I’m also hoping for)–I just need a mash-up of sorts, damn it!
In other news, I’m sitting here smiling to myself about my witty naming pop cultural year. I’d love to be a pop culture writer. Sigh.
I wish I knew how to really articulate myself when it comes to writing about music. When I talk about music I use adjectives like: amazing, soulful, awesome, rockin’, and if I’m really feeling frisky, badass. There is a skill very few have when it comes to writing about music. For me it’s a feeling. It’s a resonantion of a time or feeling. Music can be our friend when we are mad (I crank Fiona Apple), lonely (Carol King), hopeful (Mavis Staples), hopeful for love (Ray LaMontagne), in love (Ben Harper), it can make us feel better in times of despair (Bruce Springsteen).
When natural (or horribly man-made) disasters happen I am glued to the television. Watching the sadness and fear in faces, hearing stories of death and survival, and honestly feeling like I will never be able to really do anything to help beyond writing a check to do something because I am not as self-less as I can be. I got so obsessed with the news coverage from Katrina I had nightmares. I wouldn’t let myself do it this time with Haiti. I couldn’t stomach it because I was so wrapped in my depression I couldn’t take on more.
But I’m a music lover so I watched the Hope For Haiti Now telethon, and not only did I discover and finally see coverage of the awful, gut-wrentching situation. I was horrified. My first thought was “I want to adopt to Haitian baby.” Now I know I can’t do that at this time, but I still want to do something. I’ve considerad volunteer opportunities but I’ve been lazy and spending too much time thinking about what I want to do, and not what really needs to be done or who needs the most help.
It’s hard not to be down at the state of the world. I’m angry about so many things in America, but I also realize I’m a very lucky women.
So, now that this post has taken a completely different turn from the beginning, I just want to vow this: this year I will volunteer and on a very different note, I want to make more iTunes playlists…and write about how the songs I’m into a certain week is also like a journal. I miss making mix tapes, and I wish I still had many of them. They are an audio diary of our lives, and that’s important to me.
Okay, so this writing three times a week thing is ambitious. I’m working on it. Here is something I wrote while at work Monday (and ends abruptly).
How do you get over the boredom in your life?
Because I’m terribly bored of writing different versions of the same press releases, e-newsletters, program descriptions what-have-you, I started paying more attention to my real life–my outside of work, personal life. Every since I turned 31 I’ve been on some quest find out what makes me tick. I’ve pushed myself to try new things, and for the most part my self-experiment has worked. A few months ago I started tap dancing class, and I really like it. This Wednesday I start a pottery class. I’m trying new hobbies in the hopes of striking some chord within myself that I wake up one day with an “A Ha! Moment” and instantly know what I want to do with the rest of my life. The only thing I know for sure is this office environment is slowly killing me. The days seem so long, my work so unrewarding, and the fact I have little respect for my nonprofit organization mixed with my menopausal boss sure make waking up in the morning difficult. I don’t even like who I’ve become Monday through Thursday. I’m grumpy and withdrawn and smile the same fake smile and make the same simple pleasantries day after day. Truth be told I don’t know what I want to do anymore day after day. I always wished when I was little I really wanted to be something–sure I had my phases: actress, singer, journalist, radio DJ…but nothing I felt passionate enough about to pursue. After journalism and radio classes in college I knew it wasn’t for me. Maybe I gave up to easily because one teacher said I had a voice for lite FM, and I also could never write a decent lead. But I didn’t have the kind of cravings kids do to be a pilot or a doctor and there was no coercion into running a family business. So finding out what is next is terribly frustrating because I have interests: interior design, writing, culture (high, low-brow, and pop included), crafting–but I don’t know how to make those work for a career or if I want to make those work for a career because I’ll lose something. Like I used to love going to bookstores to get coffee and read magazines and then I spent nights and weekends in my early 20’s working a second job at Border’s and my feelings of hanging out in bookstores forever changed.
I’m to the point in my cold/flu where I feel like I could burst out in the frusturated tears at any moment (which is what I did when I got home from work–I wrote this earlier today). It always comes to this feeling for me. I get tired of my back and upper rib cage muscles aching from coughing, my nose feeling dry and red, of applying lip balm every 20 minutes, of my eyes feel hollowed out, and I just want to be sleeping in bed. I don’t feel like being at work, but felt the need to come in today because the boss is back and I’m not sick enough to be home any more. Unlike many, I worked most of the last couple of weeks, so unlike many, I’m actually caught up on work. Also, at this point a monkey could do my job if said monkey could type emails and communicate to the press. All day my eyes have been drawn to articles on the net with headlines like “5 Antidotes for Job Burnout” or “Where the Jobs Will Be This Decade.” What I’ve learned today is that 49% of Americans are depressed and unhappy at thier jobs. So at least I’m not alone. I’m afraid of turning into one of those bloggers who only turns to writing to bitch and whine. Like the girls I used to like reading– their adventures in dating, friends, work and life, only to discover all they did was complain in a plethora of cutesy ways. Truth is, that may be me some days so suck it.