#and it’s probably gonna sell for the same amount as the hd collection

[ashenberry]

woaw that’s so cool you made mgs3 except now I can see the dirt particles!!! anything else? no?

[bury-me-at-lambeau-blog]

An Enjoyable Job vs A Well-Paid Job

I’ve been feeling pretty dissatisfied with my current job (lumber associate at Home Depot), feeling it’s too stressful and potentially more damaging than it is rewarding, especially from a physical standpoint. I work on a hard concrete floor, I’m responsible for multiple parts of the store inside and outside, and well, much of what I have to do requires a second person and they’re not always made available to me. Thing is, it’s the best-paying job I’ve ever had and the benefits are really, really good. I know as an adult without any solid secondary income (I receive disability payments, but they’re very small), I have to consider money before I even think about taking a job that could pay less.

Back when I still lived with my folks (y’know, when both were still alive), I could afford to work my bookstore cafe job and still be okay for things I needed. Now I have bills, which I do split with my sister, but I also pay for my own food and will always want something to use for fun stuff. I might not go out a lot, but when I do, I want to be able to afford gas and maybe some lunch or a latte when I go draw in the bookstore. I also like having dental and vision insurance. I get medical through social security, which pays for my ostomy supplies (mostly). Basically, my HD job is the smartest one for me to have right now.

Only I hate working a job I don’t have any passion for just to say I make x-amount of money and have x-benefits. It’s the trap I never thought I’d find myself in when I was in my twenties. I always swore I’d rather do a job I loved for less money than work a job I didn’t care for for more money. I don’t want to be working a physically-demanding job when I’m in my 40s and 50s, like many of my coworkers do. This resolution was solidified after I had four large pieces of lumber fall on my right leg today and thus damaged my ability to walk well. It’s bruising right now, but the ache is ridiculous when I don’t have pain pills. It’s in my knee and ankle and since my job requires me to be on my feet and moving around well, tomorrow’s shift is gonna be stilted at best. This is a dangerous job. A very dangerous job, and one I don’t think inexperienced people should be working. It’s also unhealthy, given the amount of chemicals I inhale and probably ingest on a daily basis. Cement dust, dust from specially-treated merchandise like soundproofing board, and handling chemically-treated materials have probably hastened the way for cancer later in my life.

I knew it was a dangerous job when I started. I knew that. I didn’t go in blind. But I also didn’t really understand the MEASURE of danger involved until I was on the floor.

Which brings me to my next point: having a job I love.

I loved being a barista. I loved it enough to last a collective six years in the position. Did it pay well? Of course not. Was it less physically demanding? No, not really. There was still a lot of physical labor involved, but the heaviest thing I ever hoisted was a gallon of milk. I won’t even try to rose-tint the experience and say it was perfect, because it wasn’t, but it was better. The potential for internal drama was a touch higher given the close quarters, as well as the potential for angrier customers since folks are only truly fussy about their food and money. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I also feel like there’s more drama at my current job than there ever was in the bookstore (Borders, in case anyone was wondering), and that’s saying something.

A lot of people would probably think a 37 year old working in a bookstore cafe is ‘bad’ or ‘weird’, since too many people with ‘real jobs’ expect such positions to be restricted to high school or college-aged kids. I’ve always hated that narrow mindset, but these are the same people who think retail isn’t a ‘real job’. Fuck you, yes it is.

But I digress.

I have options within my current job. If I’m worried about it being too dangerous, I can consider another department, like flooring, millwork, or paint. I’m very proud of the work I do in lumber, especially since I’m the first woman ever to be directly hired into it in the store’s history. But even if I leave the department, that won’t change. It’ll still follow me no matter where I go. And while departments like flooring and millwork are numbers-based and focus very heavily on sales, maybe that’s what I need to work on the most. My ability to sell someone something they didn’t know they needed. I’ll speak to HR about such things tomorrow. I’d like to make sure I’ve explored all my options at my current position rather than throwing it into the wind and returning to something I’m comfortable with.

Honestly, I think I’m looking more for a fresh start. I’m in a very transformative period, being four months shy of my 38th birthday, which seems as good a time as any to decide what I want to be doing by the time I’m 40. If I had to liken it to anything, I’d say it was how I felt before I hit 30. My father died when I was 29 and I shortly enrolled in a medical assisting program after my 30th birthday. There’s just something about the 8th year of a decade that makes me want to change it up. Life is an endless opportunity to rediscover oneself. It doesn’t end at 18 or 20 or 30. It’s ongoing. I admit I’ve been fighting it. It’s not an easy thing as a woman to realize her societal ‘expiration date’ is fast-approaching. That one day I’ll be a faceless 40-something that no one will give a second glance at, assuming I’m a wife or mother and just taking a ‘me day’. Of course, what they won’t know is I’m still a vibrant being on the inside, even if my exterior shows a greying head and tired eyes.

I’ve gone horrifically off-track. Point is, I’m facing decision that I hope isn’t wholly fueled by the clusterfuck of retrogrades, but maybe that’s why I’m waiting. I’m scoping out the scene, checking my options before making a choice, if I even feel the need to when all is said and done. But they say, if a feeling persists, it’s probably not gonna go anywhere until something is done about it.

Here’s to escaping limbo.