I've been looking for this quote for awhile.
"...Five years ago...he told me he can take or leave what he does for a living. 'You don't need to ask polite questions about my job,' he said before we even ordered our meal. 'I do it well, and I get a kick of of having this weird talent to which no kid would ever aspire; I mean, I wanted to be a movie critic! But I'm not sorry. It's not my reason for being. It never has been" (from the novel I See You Everywhere by Julia Glass P. 266).I love that, because it is exactly how I have always felt about my job (at least since the little ducks arrived). I have always LIKED my job--I never dread getting out of bed to go, and other than occasional bouts of longing to spend more time with the ducks and feel a little less like the proverbial rat in the race, I've never seriously considered quitting any of them. But really, who aspires to be "Global Product Line Manager, Skid Steer Loaders" when they are growing up? (Though, consequently, isn't that title cool? It is by far my favorite so far--though I have to admit it sounds cooler than it really is). I wanted to be a writer. But I think, even as a little girl, I knew that building a career, or at least much of a living, on writing alone would be a long shot. This wasn't because I questioned my talent--to the contrary, I never considered my writing to be so much a talent, as something I just had to do. I enjoyed it, inasmuch as I enjoy breathing (I miss it when its gone), but I have always had words swirling around inside of me that required the release of writing. I’ve kept journals and have written stories and poems for as long as I can remember. I got some recognition for my writing in my academic life, right up through college, but that wasn't why I did it.
I have come a long way from that dreamy little girl with the notebook. Now I spend my days chasing little ducks at home and managing the strategic sourcing activities for a major construction product line at work. At times, I grow quite frustrated with the work I am paid to do. There isn't much writing involved (beyond email--ugh). Instead, I have become a whiz at excel and (curse the thought) MATH!! I stopped taking math classes my junior year in high school. That is not to say that I have no mathematical ability—if I’ve learned anything in my 12 years of professional life it is that I’m better than I think I am. And there IS a certain poetry to making excel dance. It has become my tool of choice and I’m pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself (you would be to, if you spent 4-6 hours on it every day for 5 years). But if I had had to guess, back when people still asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have been off by about 180 degrees.
But it IS frustrating to be pretty good at something that you just aren’t all that interested in. A friend and I often joked that a lot of the work we did could be accomplished by trained monkeys. Since we worked in the cost department, we wanted our slogan to be: “Cost Management: I’m your monkey.” (It never really caught on).
Still, I’m paid well, my boss leaves me alone, my work is often enough challenging and interesting, I like my co-workers, and my hours are reasonably flexible. (I can work from home when the ducks are sick or on snow days, I can sneak out for doctor appointments and class Masses, I’m off in time to pick the big kids up from school at least 80% of the time). I live just a few blocks from my parents and most of my family is close by. My husband is self employed and doesn’t have benefits, and I’m not sure I’d be a great stay at home mom anyway. So I’m not inclined to leave.
It can be a bit disconcerting to look at the years racing by and wonder if I’ll retire from this place, though. Even though I never had a crystal vision of my future (I never thought “I’m going to be a teacher,” or “I’m going to be a doctor” or even “I’m going to be a writer”). What I knew I wanted most was to be a wife and a mom and that I am. This job—this career—allows that to be my primary focus while still providing a nice living for my family and filling my fundamental “achievement” need. (Those sporadic promotions and periodic performance reviews stroke my ego enough).
So I realize, as I write this, how "underwhelming" my approach to my career and my job are. I’m content, certainly. And I think it is good for the company to have people who aren’t desperately clawing for the next promotion or fighting for some internal vision of what they should be when they grow up. I’m malleable and engaged enough, and I let my bosses set the direction (which they are all, without exception, happy to do). I am smart and competent and a good leader. If I weren’t me, I would want a me working for me (know what I mean?)
All this doesn’t mean, of course, that I will never suffer periods of restlessness and irritation in this job. It just means that it isn’t my reason for being. Never has been.
I have come a long way from that dreamy little girl with the notebook. Now I spend my days chasing little ducks at home and managing the strategic sourcing activities for a major construction product line at work. At times, I grow quite frustrated with the work I am paid to do. There isn't much writing involved (beyond email--ugh). Instead, I have become a whiz at excel and (curse the thought) MATH!! I stopped taking math classes my junior year in high school. That is not to say that I have no mathematical ability—if I’ve learned anything in my 12 years of professional life it is that I’m better than I think I am. And there IS a certain poetry to making excel dance. It has become my tool of choice and I’m pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself (you would be to, if you spent 4-6 hours on it every day for 5 years). But if I had had to guess, back when people still asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have been off by about 180 degrees.
But it IS frustrating to be pretty good at something that you just aren’t all that interested in. A friend and I often joked that a lot of the work we did could be accomplished by trained monkeys. Since we worked in the cost department, we wanted our slogan to be: “Cost Management: I’m your monkey.” (It never really caught on).
Still, I’m paid well, my boss leaves me alone, my work is often enough challenging and interesting, I like my co-workers, and my hours are reasonably flexible. (I can work from home when the ducks are sick or on snow days, I can sneak out for doctor appointments and class Masses, I’m off in time to pick the big kids up from school at least 80% of the time). I live just a few blocks from my parents and most of my family is close by. My husband is self employed and doesn’t have benefits, and I’m not sure I’d be a great stay at home mom anyway. So I’m not inclined to leave.
It can be a bit disconcerting to look at the years racing by and wonder if I’ll retire from this place, though. Even though I never had a crystal vision of my future (I never thought “I’m going to be a teacher,” or “I’m going to be a doctor” or even “I’m going to be a writer”). What I knew I wanted most was to be a wife and a mom and that I am. This job—this career—allows that to be my primary focus while still providing a nice living for my family and filling my fundamental “achievement” need. (Those sporadic promotions and periodic performance reviews stroke my ego enough).
So I realize, as I write this, how "underwhelming" my approach to my career and my job are. I’m content, certainly. And I think it is good for the company to have people who aren’t desperately clawing for the next promotion or fighting for some internal vision of what they should be when they grow up. I’m malleable and engaged enough, and I let my bosses set the direction (which they are all, without exception, happy to do). I am smart and competent and a good leader. If I weren’t me, I would want a me working for me (know what I mean?)
All this doesn’t mean, of course, that I will never suffer periods of restlessness and irritation in this job. It just means that it isn’t my reason for being. Never has been.
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