Beautiful World

 

I made a vow this year to be less cynical, and dammit, I'm going to assume the best in people!

Anhedonic

Today my brother started work at a certain famous tech company, with many cheers from me and everyone who knows him. He had been a database software engineering guy for a certain academic library for years before. I think it'll be a smooth transition as he likes that stuff a lot. It's a win for our family in the honor department.

Amidst these years of great change (the germ, calamity, reinvention), his transition has given me thought about the potential for change for me, too.

Thinking about the old rusty knife still in my side, what happened to this "career" I had envisioned? Let's see, I was going to be a structural engineer, no, then physics! Let's settle with math. Okay, more specifically math teacher, because what does one do with math? No, I don't like this school's undergrad program, so let us get general coursework out of the way at city college. Now back to state college.

Was college just "finding myself"?

Ten years later...

I departed college like a constipated turd at the end of the line. The conditions were right for expulsion, and, like a turd, ended up in the toilet, perhaps a little bloody. Sure, I had the degree. But all for what? To be like so many in my age bracket who were told when applying to college "do something general because it will make you more marketable to employers." What employers were these, Miss Counselor?

We like to blame anyone but ourselves. I had no idea what to do for a career going into college, and that was my first mistake. My second mistake was never having a taste of what work actually was until after college.

The toilet in which I, the turd, am currently swimming is retail. This means I cashier, help customers, answer phones, clean, assist Bob in placing orders, and all of the critical functions of running a retail pet shop. My next priority is managing 4 employees, whom I wish did not have to exist, but are for the most part pleasant and give me some time off. I am greatly thankful for the little placeholders that they are.

It's retail burnout that's getting me. You burn out when you stop caring. Some days, you go, "Why bother opening? People are treating us like a charity case anyway."

There's also the cynicism... let's see... depression, family turmoil, back pain. These experiences in adulting form the compost that maybe I just haven't bloomed from yet. My mom, for one, blossomed later in life, in her late 50s. She changed careers, traveled, took up art, died. Maybe I will, too. Maybe I have to hit rock-bottom first. Maybe I'm there now.

Can't go below this level. (Minecraft)

 

One step above rock-bottom is living in your car on the street. Let's say I'm more than couple steps above rock-bottom, and that would be working a retail job. Granted, I own (by virtue of marriage to the owner) the business and, hence, my own job. Granted, this job pays enough for us to have a home and support my father in his home. Barely, but not really. I am quite thankful that I have even this.

Bob, my guardian angel, touched me with his magic wand 10 years ago (a wand of promise and XXX enchantment), and I became a worker bee for his company. Now I run the company. Sort of. Bob is still my safety net. If I had a complete meltdown and couldn't do things anymore, he would grab the reins and keep things going.

Maybe I'm looking to do something white-collar now, so I can at least say that I tried it and hated it, just like ricotta cheese. (Blech! Ack!)