Thursday, July 22nd, 2004 • No Comments on Not That I’m Counting the Days Or Anything…
So far, the only reason I can come up with to show even a modicum of interest in going to work tomorrow is for the ice cream cake in the library freezer (for yet another July birthday). Surely, in the great scheme of things, I should look forward to going to work for more than dessert, right?
I realized something interesting the other night: this is the longest I have ever been at a job. Three years, two months and fifteen days (and counting). I’ve
stayed in the same place for that long. I once worked for a company for almost four years, but I got promoted and transferred three times. I worked another job for about two and a half years, but took off several months for one of my college attempts. But here I am, three-ish years into a job where I a) do the exact same thing I did when I started and b) make about sixty cents more an hour than when I started. No wonder I’m ready to chew off my own leg to escape a relatively easy part-time job.
Despite my spotty employment history, I really do have a difficult time quitting jobs. I have only quit two jobs for reasons other than moving or school (or, in one case, when the company was bought out and the new management didn’t really need me). I realize, of course, that my lack of job satisfaction stems from the fact that there is only one thing I truly want to be employed doing—and that’s write. Still, it’s hard to walk away from my part-time job, even when I’m dying for something more interesting, more challenging, just plain