I just got done reading one of my "every-day" bloggers who had just posted about reading another blog. Instead of commenting, I rushed here instead:
I have an internship. It is the most boring job in the world. I make copies, write stupid company newsletter articles, make more copies, listen to people tell me I didn't follow the exact formula for the stupid newsletter articles, copy a few more papers, and go home wondering this is what it will be like in "the real world." I die a little bit every time I enter that building.
Last week, my supervisor, who has been with this dry and dusty company for THIRTY FIVE YEARS, said I should try and get a job with the Company. After I'd just finished telling her I wanted to to graphic design. After I'd just told her I didn't think insurance and I were a good fit. After I 'd just finished thinking to myself, "I'd rather walk across needles than come to this soul-sucking company every day of my adult life."
But my supervisor's suggestion was (to her) a wonderful idea. In her mind, a company that makes a good profit, never lays off its workers and offers good benefits is all you should ever want in an employer.
My counter argument is this: You spend most of your life working. Why, oh why, would you spend 93,600 hours of your life doing something you hate? Or that didn't bring you joy? Or that provided you with a paycheck but nothing more? A smaller paycheck is worth waking up anxious to get to work. Fewer dollars in your bank account are worth the excitement of doing something you love.
I realize I have yet to really get out there (in the work force), but I have had a taste of it. I've had a job I loved that I hated to leave and I've worked in places I couldn't run from fast enough. I want to look back on my life and realize I loved what I did, was content with what I made and believed in the work I was doing. It's not just a job. It's really not.
Верующий Гагарин и прочий трешняк
1 week ago