When I first began writing this blog post, I felt how I always feel when thinking about full-time jobs in the "real" and "adult" world. I had prepared for that moment by doing two internships while I was in school, one during the summer at a historical society and the other in my last fall semester at a nonprofit organization.
Unfortunately, I found both did not suit my needs and, though they included writing and gaining experience, I was still quite bored. This trend was not the case for my job in the writing center, which grew busier as the semester continued, or at the grocery store where I was at a cashier. It must just be the internships, I thought.
I have been sufficiently bored at my job since attaining full-time status at this time last year. The same trend always exists. I am excited to be there, looking forward to it; I am busy, learning the ropes; I ask for more things to do, in order to impress; and then not a lot of things come up that I need to do. Why? Is it me? Do I finish my tasks too quickly? I know when they are finished I have put all the hard work I can into them, so its not like I hurry and do a half-ass job. What, then? Why is this happening?
This contributed to my rocky transition period into my full-time job. It was incredibly difficult for me to sit inputting information into a spreadsheet all day for eight hours. Not only did it make me feel useless, but it also started to effect my writing habits. After doing this work all day--even if on my breaks I took walks, wrote, or read books--I found, upon returning home, that I did nothing. I watched TV. (Normally, I do not watch a lot of TV. When I get an apartment it will not be one of the things I purchase. Of course, I want my DVDs and Netflix, but those are quite different than idly sitting on the couch because you were drawn into a program you chose at random.) It was so unproductive and, just as it happens when I do not write for a few days, I was unhappy.
As I grew up, my goal in my mind stayed the same: to never ever do a job for the money. That was not living. The only way, I knew, I could be happy is by doing something I love, and that happens to be writing. Except this will not pay off my student debt or help me live--not yet. In order to start moving forward instead of behind is to have a job where I just make money. It's how we all start off, right? Only, if I was busy at all of my jobs, I might not despise them so much. I know I only liked working as a cashier because of the constant flow of tasks that kept me from looking at the clock. At any job, this would be the same case.
Everything has been slowing down for my work. Thoughts stray into my mind of unhappiness, but I keep my projects going. The only positive thing is that at this job, I still want to write at the end of the day. I crave it.
And then, yesterday, something arrived on my desk that reminded me of an important, forgotten goal from last year.
It was a 401K plan I could sign up for, and information on health insurance. I am still on my parents, except having a backup, having my own, means huge relief. Since I have colitis, being without health insurance is just unimaginable. My medication alone--one of them--would empty my savings. There it was--my one reason for getting a job that was not money. To have a backup. To be safe and healthy.
So, what does this mean for being happy? What does this mean about how busy I am at work? I am not quite sure yet; however, I am glad I completed last year's goal.
UPDATE: Not long after I wrote this post, I was approached by my boss, who has been trying to find someone to fill a bookkeeping job, and he asked if I wanted to apply. When I replied I did, we looked up where I could do accounting classes to understand it better, and I am now in my fourth lesson! Things are looking up, and I am ever so slowly filling my day with busy, productive, activities. AND I am still writing. I'm getting closer!
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