There's Got to Be More to Life

So, I've already failed at my once a week promise. It's been nearly two since I wrote the last post. I've been busy as hell, though. Since I wrote the last post, I started a new, third job. I've had exactly one day off since then, and for that one, I had to have someone cover my shift just so I could get some sleep. I'm busy, and I'm tired, and I'm getting more and more frustrated as the days go on.

I hate being that person who always thinks their boss is out to get them, but yeah...I think my boss is out to get me. And it's the boss that matters. It's the boss at the job that pays the most. The job that's the "pay check" and not the job where I'm doing what I love. Lately, I feel like I can't do or say anything right. It's causing me to overthink everything I do, which results in me screwing up even more. I'm frustrated. And yeah, sad. I don't like being bad at my job. I don't like knowing that no matter what I do, and what I change, it's still not right. It's not what they're looking for. It's not how it's supposed to be. It does nothing for my self esteem and my self worth.

I had been feeling really depressed for a few weeks. I couldn't figure out what it was. I assumed my meds had stopped working, or it was because the weather was crappy and cold for too long this year. And then I worked a shift at the bookstore (a job I got because I wanted it, not because I needed it). Lately, I've been getting very few hours. Sometimes, only five or six a week, which does nothing to supplement my part-time income. It's what led me to seek out the third job. Anyway, after a few weeks of only working there once a week, I finally figured out that that's what was depressing me. Not being able to do that job. Not being able to get my hands on books, and to help people find the perfect one. Not getting to socialize with people who I have things in common with. Not being able to do what I love. It's the first time in my entire life that I have a job that I truly love. But, it doesn't pay me enough to do it full-time, which kills me.

The third job I got is at a library. So far, after one week, it's...not what I expected. The first day was very boring. When I told Ben that, his reaction was, "of course it's boring, it's a library. What did you expect?" Point taken, I guess. The second and third days were a little bit more active. I like it. I'm learning quickly, and again, I enjoy spending my days with people who have the same interests as I do. And I've already been told by a co-worker that I'm "smart," because I knew that the title of a book a customer was asking for was called something different. Because I know my field. And I'm damn good at it. And I'm good at it, because I love it.

That being said, I'm not sure the library job is going to last. The first tip-off was the children's story times that take place just about every day. We do story times at the bookstore, but they're not nearly as involved. There, we read a book (or two) and usually do a crafting activity and then we're done. In the three days I worked at the library, I observed three different story times, with three different people hosting them. During all three, I sat there thinking, "I can't do that." And I'm probably going to have to, because one of those people is leaving, which is who I was hired to replace. There's singing, and there's dancing, and there's toys and games, and the whole nine yards. I love kids. Adore them. But, that's not me. I'm not that person. I can't perform like that in front of that many people (on Friday, there were probably about 30, including parents). The second sign was when a particular patron came into the library. She walked in and I saw my co-workers glance at each other. A few seconds later, I was called into the back room. I was informed that this particular patron was schizophrenic. When she's on her meds, she's fine. When she's not, she can be "disruptive." They then proceeded to tell me that she can get in your face sometimes, and she's "very strong," so "don't be afraid to call the cops when you're here alone." Hold the phone. I'm going to be here alone? Is that legal? Why wasn't that mentioned in the interview? And what?! No no. I do not like this.

Look, I don't know what I'm doing. I have no idea. I'm just some kid with a dream. Except that I'm not anymore. A kid, that is. When I was 22 and fresh out of college, this whole chasing my dreams bit was cute, and fun. I enjoyed defying the odds, and telling people to "shove it" when they told me I wasn't good enough. I enjoyed proving myself and letting everyone know that I was going to find that dream job. No one could tell me otherwise. At 30, it's just sad. And exhausting. And frustrating. And infuriating. I feel old. I feel like those 22-year-olds are the ones getting the jobs I want now. Those kids with that same determination I had are the ones getting the jobs I should have gotten had I not stupidly chosen to get married and give it all up instead. It feels like it's too late. I just want one job. I just want to be comfortable, and I want some structure, and I want a job that doesn't make me want to blow my brains out every morning. I'm certain I'm not alone. I know that this generation has it hard. For us, that is too much to ask. Most of us can't do it alone. So many people my age (and older) are still living at home, because they can't afford not to. And I know that my chosen field doesn't pay a lot. It's not about the money. It never was for me. If it was, I'd have a nice cushy job at an insurance company, since they loved me there in college (I also told them I had no intention of staying there, because I had bigger dreams). I've said this before, and I'll say it again, even though it offended someone last time: I envy those who are happy with a paycheck. I envy those people who don't really have a big dream they're chasing. The ones who are just happy having a job that pays the bills. Not even happy - just content. Just "good enough." I want that. But, I know that I won't get that unless I'm working in the field I spent so much time and money studying. At what point do I decide that's not gonna happen, and just settle for the paycheck, so I can settle down and have a family? Because, I know I'll regret not having a family more than I'll regret not having that job.

Why can't the jobs I love pay me enough to survive? And how come the jobs that pay me (barely) enough make me miserable and depressed? Is this simply the reality of the world, or is it me?