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 never 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 more.

Posted by Kristina in Musings at 12:04 AM Permalink