Jobs I’ve had since graduating college:

  1. Juice & Smoothie Barista/Cockroach Warrior
  2. Standardized Test Evaluator/Eye Roller
  3. Waitress/Profuse Apologizer
  4. Hotel Clerk/Stress Cryer
  5. Data Entry Clerk/Stoned Employee of the Month
  6. Law Firm Compensation Consultant/Wait really?
  7. Standardized Test Evaluator/YOUR CHILDREN ARE GRADED BY DRIFTERS.
  8. Dog Walker/Cowgirl Who Can Literally Make Leashes into Lassos
  9. Tech Company Support Specialist/Grammatically Sound but Confused Gremlin

And today I learned that it’s Professional Development Month at work. This is terrifying to me because it means I have to schedule a meeting with my boss, specifically to talk about my career goals and what I’m doing to achieve them.

In case the impressive list of jobs I happened to stumble into within the past 4 years while I was blindfolded and thought I was, like, playing an adult game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey or something didn’t clue you in, I have no idea what I’m doing.

My current job is the first one that I’ve actually really worked toward, and while I recognize that my position is bottom of the food chain in my company, I’ve never worked at a fancy place that allows dogs and has a beer fridge, and now that I’m here, I’m like, “Wait…you want me to keep moving?”

In all the books and movies and TV shows, characters always have some sort of life changing experience where their heart stops and they jolt upward in their seat – Aha! This is what I’m meant to do with my life!

And I want that moment so badly that I imagine my destiny in everything.

I bake cookies one morning – MOM, I’M GOING TO BE A BAKER.

I decide on a whim to figure out how to sew my old sundresses into a quilt – I’M A SEAMSTRESS NOW.

A dog growls at someone on the sidewalk but likes me – I AM THE NEW DOG WHISPERER.

But after a couple weeks of pursuing my newfound dream, I realize: Fuck. I don’t want to bake more than two cookie sheets worth of cookies, and this quilt’s left side is a foot longer than its right, and this other dog actually just gave me a bloody nose, so I’m right back where I started.

And geography is a factor, too. I seriously do heart NY, but fuck no do I want to live here when I’m over 40. I’d end up totally disillusioned and crazy and probably sleep with a married person and then boil said married person’s pet rabbit somewhere on the Upper East Side (lol who am I kidding – It’s already 2017. I’m never going to know anyone who can afford to live on the Upper East Side. Let’s make it Bushwick).

I’m here while I have the energy to be here, and God bless the people who have that energy their entires lives, but that’s not me.

In ten years, I want my pup to have a real backyard, and I want to wake up to birds and fall asleep to crickets, but I want to do it in a place where Seamless will still deliver. That’s a career goal, right?



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