today, while walking to lunch, i passed the currency exchange on lasalle and chicago. on their flashing jumbotron-esque screen mounted on the building's roof, a message twinkled in wondrous flourescence.
"skilled, motivated individuals, fax us your resume."
i almost kicked my own ass when i realized i was attempting to memorize the number. "where's the harm in trading one shit job for another?" i thought. you see, i need a new job.
i have a dead-end job. yeah, yeah. sure, i'm only 22 (though, in less than a month, that number changes). sure, it's my first real job. sure, i've only been here for 2 months. sure, sure, sure. unsure.
the problem is... well... i had ideas for myself, big ideas. i want so much more than this job can afford me, and however uncharacteristic this is, i'm not willing to settle. i will settle on an apartment, clothing, restaurants, vacation destinations, hell, even friends... but i won't settle on where i want myself to be, i mean really be.
it took my first two years at university to finally discover something i was truly passionate about studying, and now, i'm not willing to act like that discovery never took place. i was an english major, a history major, an economics major, a classics major, an art major, an art history major, an art education major, a classics major again, a sociology major, an astornomy major, a physics major, an astro-physics major, a classics major one more time, and finally, a communications & gender studies major. it was a long, long road, and i worked really hard to get to the end of it... and i did. i'm not about to forget that.
yet that's exactly what this job is making me do. while on a daily basis i may apply knowledge that i gained or skills that i honed throughout my 4 years at a major, public university, i do not employ anything that had to do with what i actually studied. now, i don't expect to find a job that requires an in-depth knowledge of laura mulvey's thoughts on the male gaze and their relevance to those of freud and foucault on sexuality, nor one that calls for firsthand experience researching the effects of widespread change on middle management in a multi-tiered organization with multiple branch offices. that'd just be silly.
but currently, i'm in the wrong position, the wrong department, the wrong field, the wrong industry. i'm the coordinator of a bookstore. my larger department is student accounts. i work at a culinary school. the school is owned by a corporation. yes, i'm in education for profit and do nothing that deals with communications or gender.
i want to use my degree. i want to be in marketing. i want to be a writer. i want to work for an advertising company. i want to design things. i want to be a publicist. i want a tv show. i want to be an editor. i want to travel for work. i want to talk intelligently with others in my field. i want to work at a magazine. i want to be known in my industry, if even slightly. i want to be published. i want to publish. i want to circle things with a red wax pencil and say "no" to them. i want a job i like.
i do not like my job.
find me on monster.com.
where's my fucking commercial?
posted by brett @ 3:10 PM
4 Comments:
i wish i had more readers so your shameless plug wouldn't have been useless.
i'm totally getting a t-shirt that says "i heart sven".
honestly, byron, i'm having the shirt (and several others) made this weekend while i'm visiting a friend in champaign, so what size do you want?
do you trust my skills as a fashion designer?
oh, and sven, don't worry, i'll do all this publicity pro bono. i'd make a great publicist.
since you didnt seem to have an ifotd, ill give you one of MINE (cuz Thats the kind of guy i am):
when im near golf courses (and this includes bike riding along the lake), i worry about getting hit in the head by a small white ball. i have nothing against small white balls, mind you. i just dont think itd be fun for a dimpled deathtrap to knock my noggin.
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