Do not, I repeat, DO NOT click on the link below!
But if you do, don't say I didn't warn you.
coffee shop
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
What I want to be when I grow up...
Since I'm on the verge of losing my job (not because of anything I did; the industry is tanking everywhere) and sit at my desk day after day with nary so much as 5 minutes worth of job-related work to do I figured I might as well pick up this blog again. I need to get my creative juices flowing.Yet herein lies the problem.
I've been working at a job that I never thought I'd find myself doing, not in a million years. It involves math, and math & I, well, we haven't exactly gotten along since the 5th grade. Every standardized test, career test, what have you, has always pegged me as a creative type. And you know those tests, they don't lie. But what they don't tell you is what to do with that information. Sure, they give you suggestions for careers: writer, artist, musician, etc. It's up to you to point yourself in the direction you want to go. Me? I took the easy route.
I went to college ("the easy route?" you say, "I don't think so". But stick with me here.) I spent not 4 but 5 years pursuing a degree in Communication Studies. Could there be a more non-descript major? (Well, yes, Liberal Arts maybe, but said degree was obtained at a liberal arts college, so there ya go!) By the time I got my diploma I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a degree, wasn't I just guaranteed a job?!
Well, that was 10 years ago. I spent the first four of those years dabbling in pretty much anything that remotely held my interest and gave me enough to cover rent.
First stop, Hollywood. It didn't take me long to figure out that my shy, self-concious, midwestern self with incredibly low self-esteem was not cut out for the the cut-throat world of movie making.
Second stop, title company. Basically, my job was to research the title history for residential properties being bought and sold. Interesting to a point, but I shared an office with a group of menopausal women. Not exactly the most exciting environment for a girl in her early 20's.
From there I moved back home to the midwest; something I vowed never to do once I left. Still not having a clue as to what I wanted to do with my life, and paralyzed with fear at the notion of having to think about it, I did what any good Gen-Xer with no job prospects, no health benefits and a BA would do, I became a corporate coffee slinger. While to the outside world it may seem like a mindless profession, to those on the inside with even the slightest sense of observation it was much less about the beans and much more about the bucks - in more ways than one (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I learned a tremendous amount about business in the two years I spent pulling shots. But a girl can't survive on coffee alone - at least not when she's just a lowly peon, I mean, "partner".
At this point in my life things began to change drastically, not just for me but the entire nation. I quit the barista life one week before Sept.11. My plan was to work for my parents, who owned a mortgage company. I seriously must have been out of my mind at the time - math AND my parents? 40 hours a week?? Yet the idea of once again having to think about my future, to dig down deep and really figure out what I wanted to do with my life, still petrified me. And when I say petrified I mean absolutely, positively scared shitless (believe me, I would have to be in order to work with my parents!). Of course, I just kept telling myself it was only temporary; just until I found something better (yeah, right). But then I got swept up in the mortgage boom. No, I didn't make tremendous amounts of money because I was still too scared to talk to people (I decided that processing loans was a much more comfortable - and safe - position for me).
I also got swept into my (second) biggest fear, familial obligation. I'm the oldest child and with that usually comes a people pleasing personality, especially when it comes to parents. And mine certainly don't make it easy for me. For years my dad held tight to the dream that I would someday take over the "family business" even after the MANY times I told him that I had no interest in doing so. My dad is one of those people; the kind that hears only what they want to hear and disregards the rest (hey, I think there's a song in that!). But I have now been released from these nagging ties that bind! Both mom and pops have informed me that initiating a job search tout de suite would probably be a great idea.
So here I am, faced with impending joblessness yet oddly at ease - well, somewhat. I feel so incredibly relieved to have basically been given my parent's blessings to move on to greener pastures and yet I find myself back at that sad, uncomfortably familiar place of not knowing what the hell I should do with the rest of my life. But I'm searching. Digging down deep where it's dark and scary. Picking away at my "I must be perfect all day, all of the time" fortress, trying to hold my fear and reservations at bay and searching for what really lies at the heart of me. Not quite sure what that is yet but at least, for once, I'm on my way to finding it.
I've been working at a job that I never thought I'd find myself doing, not in a million years. It involves math, and math & I, well, we haven't exactly gotten along since the 5th grade. Every standardized test, career test, what have you, has always pegged me as a creative type. And you know those tests, they don't lie. But what they don't tell you is what to do with that information. Sure, they give you suggestions for careers: writer, artist, musician, etc. It's up to you to point yourself in the direction you want to go. Me? I took the easy route.
I went to college ("the easy route?" you say, "I don't think so". But stick with me here.) I spent not 4 but 5 years pursuing a degree in Communication Studies. Could there be a more non-descript major? (Well, yes, Liberal Arts maybe, but said degree was obtained at a liberal arts college, so there ya go!) By the time I got my diploma I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a degree, wasn't I just guaranteed a job?!
Well, that was 10 years ago. I spent the first four of those years dabbling in pretty much anything that remotely held my interest and gave me enough to cover rent.
First stop, Hollywood. It didn't take me long to figure out that my shy, self-concious, midwestern self with incredibly low self-esteem was not cut out for the the cut-throat world of movie making.
Second stop, title company. Basically, my job was to research the title history for residential properties being bought and sold. Interesting to a point, but I shared an office with a group of menopausal women. Not exactly the most exciting environment for a girl in her early 20's.
From there I moved back home to the midwest; something I vowed never to do once I left. Still not having a clue as to what I wanted to do with my life, and paralyzed with fear at the notion of having to think about it, I did what any good Gen-Xer with no job prospects, no health benefits and a BA would do, I became a corporate coffee slinger. While to the outside world it may seem like a mindless profession, to those on the inside with even the slightest sense of observation it was much less about the beans and much more about the bucks - in more ways than one (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I learned a tremendous amount about business in the two years I spent pulling shots. But a girl can't survive on coffee alone - at least not when she's just a lowly peon, I mean, "partner".
At this point in my life things began to change drastically, not just for me but the entire nation. I quit the barista life one week before Sept.11. My plan was to work for my parents, who owned a mortgage company. I seriously must have been out of my mind at the time - math AND my parents? 40 hours a week?? Yet the idea of once again having to think about my future, to dig down deep and really figure out what I wanted to do with my life, still petrified me. And when I say petrified I mean absolutely, positively scared shitless (believe me, I would have to be in order to work with my parents!). Of course, I just kept telling myself it was only temporary; just until I found something better (yeah, right). But then I got swept up in the mortgage boom. No, I didn't make tremendous amounts of money because I was still too scared to talk to people (I decided that processing loans was a much more comfortable - and safe - position for me).
I also got swept into my (second) biggest fear, familial obligation. I'm the oldest child and with that usually comes a people pleasing personality, especially when it comes to parents. And mine certainly don't make it easy for me. For years my dad held tight to the dream that I would someday take over the "family business" even after the MANY times I told him that I had no interest in doing so. My dad is one of those people; the kind that hears only what they want to hear and disregards the rest (hey, I think there's a song in that!). But I have now been released from these nagging ties that bind! Both mom and pops have informed me that initiating a job search tout de suite would probably be a great idea.
So here I am, faced with impending joblessness yet oddly at ease - well, somewhat. I feel so incredibly relieved to have basically been given my parent's blessings to move on to greener pastures and yet I find myself back at that sad, uncomfortably familiar place of not knowing what the hell I should do with the rest of my life. But I'm searching. Digging down deep where it's dark and scary. Picking away at my "I must be perfect all day, all of the time" fortress, trying to hold my fear and reservations at bay and searching for what really lies at the heart of me. Not quite sure what that is yet but at least, for once, I'm on my way to finding it.
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