Clarity

This morning was, as the kids say, a total waste of make up. I had some group interview/assessment thing for a job I applied for. I got all dressed up like an adult and sat in a room full of other people and had to pretend that working in a call centre was my life’s ambition. The went through all the terms and conditions of the job and after a “team building” exercise, I decided to cut and run. I have developed a habit of taking whatever job is offered to me, based on the notion I believe I am so wildly unemployable that I should be grateful for any bone thrown at me. This has resulted in my last couple of jobs being ones that I hated, but accepted because they were the first offered to me. This position was not what I wanted, they took time to tell us that for at least to years there would be nothing in the way of even being considered for internal transfers or promotions, no annual leave would be approved in the first 12 months and a bunch of other stuff that made it very clear that we needed the job far more than the job needed us.

After I left and was self-congratulatory for a little while about not just going through the motions for a job I know I wouldn’t like, I started to think about how unemployable I am and that I probably should take what I can get. The economic climate is bad, I don’t have any outstanding skills in terms of administration or anything, I don’t have years of experience in any particular thing so maybe I just need to take anything. For some reason, I then moved on to thinking about who I would be, or what I would do if I could do anything ever. It’s a badly kept secret that I fucking love Patience from The Grates and just want to be Elise from RVA. Why? Because they both seem like such lovely, happy people who truly love what they do. If I could do anything, I’d have my own little shop that sells awesome shit that I’ve made myself or stocked from other cool kids. It has nothing to do with making millions. I don’t actually care about ever owning a new car or something else flashy. I’ve been so focused lately on finding jobs that will pay me heaps but that won’t necessarily make me happy. Given the choice of having people say “Wow, Jen always has such cool new shit, she’s awesome” or “Wow, Jen always seems so happy and passionate about what she does, she is awesome” there is not even the slightest doubt what I would choose. I’d be really happy to work in a cupcake shop, actually. I know I won’t be making millions but it’s fucking cupcakes, how could you ever have a shit day if you were surrounded by cupcakes?

The spectacular Louise Hay says that if you worry about never having enough money then you will never have enough money. If you believe that you’ll be provided with everything you need then it will come to you. I know it’s easy to pick that apart, but let’s resist the urge. It kinda makes sense, don’t you think?

I just need to stop panicking. There is a job out there for me. A job that I love and that loves me. A job that doesn’t make me feel like a shell of a person, or a sell-out or anything else bad. A job that I like going to, a job that I want to go to even on my days off (don’t laugh, when I worked at the popcorn places years and years ago, on my days off I’d go there because I knew it would be fun and I loved everyone who worked there).

I don’t have it all sorted out yet, not by any means, but I feel like I’m really close to figuring out what it is I should be doing.