When I began looking for jobs outside of teaching I really didn't give too much credence to what I would be doing. The objective was to find a job that required little of me so that I could devote my thoughts and energy towards my writing and personal interests. In fact, if the job was menial enough, I figured that I could get some writing done while I was on the clock, theoretically getting paid for my writing. Brilliant, right? So began one boring administrative assistant job after another, administration seeming to be the only field outside of teaching that welcomed someone with an English degree.
These jobs at engineering firms and real estate offices were brain-numbingly boring, so I guess I accomplished what I had set out to do and I did get writing done during that time. However, the writing, like the administrative work, was mediocre. With the exception of the six years I was a monthly contributor to International Tattoo Art magazine, I wrote articles for daily newspapers and local entertainment weeklies. This meant that I was not finding enough fulfillment in my extracurricular life to make up for my disappointing professional life. I also found myself increasingly resentful of the meager wage that I was earning. I had a Master's Degree dammit! Why was I earning $10 an hour, or less?
My increasing depression over my career led to increasing problems at home. I was resentful of my then-husband who was successful at a job that he adored. He had not even completed college and was earning over $100 an hour AND loving what he was doing. It didn't seem fair and I grew increasingly bitter. The blame for this bitterness was placed everywhere except on my own shoulders. Employers weren't utilizing me to my full potential. The job market in Florida was terrible. I had too many responsibilities at home with my children to really devote myself to the betterment of my career. I neglected to acknowledge that I was an alcoholic who was exhibiting a pattern of never following through with anything. Wielding this reasoning like a giant bullshit sword, I decided to cut a path for us out of Florida, claiming that we needed to move back to Virginia where there would be more opportunity for ME.
In Virginia I took another approach to my pursuit of profession. I believed that reinvention was in order. If I had been unsuccessful in materializing the person that I thought I was, then I must need to become a different person. I started taking jobs that might transform me into a girl unlike the one I was and unlike any other girl for that matter. Most of these jobs were labor intensive because I had begun to believe that I must not be so special intellectually after all. Perhaps I could set myself apart physically. I took a job in a wood shop, hoping to learn a new set of skills that I could excel at.
To a certain extent I met the physical challenges, and achieved what I had hoped. I was a girl in a male-dominated work space and was athletically fit enough to not be a total hindrance. Yet, these guys had the advantage of many years of experience in their trade and with tools, and I was impatient with myself as I tried to keep up and not appear foolish. I also began working with a junk hauling company. Here was another opportunity to exhibit my physical stamina and strength. But that was about all that it was. On occasion it would provide me with interesting stories to add to my reservoir of experience, like clearing out a home where two women had been murdered, but really it was filthy and exhausting work. That was one of a series of filthy exhausting jobs that were to follow including running wires through crawl spaces, replacing windows, waiting tables, and painting. There were a handful of not so terrible jobs as well, like a semester of teaching art to disadvantaged youth, transcribing letters and writing for a very wise man, and several months of trying to learn how to use a lathe to make body jewelry.
I have spent the last several years working as a part-time courier and providing "helper services" as side work. I call it "helper services" to make myself feel better, but really it is just house cleaning and yard work. I have met some wonderful people in my clients and am a better person from having met and helped them. In fact, I've begun to believe that it was necessary for me to meet them. The majority of my clients are therapists by trade and in the time since I was introduced to them I made the choice to become a therapist myself. I begin coursework for a Master's degree in just over a month. Would I have ever chosen to pursue this career path had I not spent this time scraping by cleaning houses? I have no idea but it's intriguing to consider. Is this the career that I will finally fit into comfortably? I have no idea but I'm committed to following through with it. Would I have found this resolve to commit had I not struggled so painfully for the last ten years? I have no idea but I'm thankful to have it now.
I have heard from several people of reasonable intelligence, people that I respect, that you shouldn't look to your job to define yourself. It's a sentiment that I have used constantly as I have tried to lift myself from the ground where I sit humbled. I do believe it in theory. Countless spiritual guides and self-help books tout the universal truth that there is nothing outside of yourself that should be an instrument in your definition...not your job, or your friends, or your lover, or your children. However, there seems to be a sizable step between accepting a theory and putting it into practice. When you are at a job, or in a relationship, or being a parent for 99% of everyday, it is difficult to not believe that these things are the bulk of your substance. How do you find the time to search for the real you or the energy to make that real you shine from beneath all of these other layers of life?
I don't know the answer and am becoming less confident that there is an answer at all. What I do know is that being bitter or depressed about anything is futile. These emotions warp that small bit of real me that is left into something ugly and alienating. All that I can do is continue to explore the things in this world that appeal to me, never abandoning curiosity and hope. After ten years of self-induced suffering, I can now grasp that even if the things that I pursue, like another Master's degree, don't satisfy everything that my ego desires from them, I will learn something...most likely something about myself and that knowledge will carry me to someplace new. That place might be the right place and I might get there at the right time...because that is always what happens, whether or not I recognize it to be so.
That being said...do you know anyone who is hiring?
