Job

"I just don't feel productive, challenged, or useful!" I say to Husband. "At the end of the day, I have learned nothing new! I'm bored. It's such a long day there..." All this in reference to my current job. I'm finally pursuing the dream job via 2 more years of school but currently am required to have A job so - there I am, a Logistician, for the Dept of Defense no less. Sounds fascinating doesn't it? Ehhh, not so much.

"Look things up on the internet," says Husband. "Surf the web! I love to do that at work. What a timepasser huh?" Sigh. "I do! But there is only so much surfing I can do in a 10 hour day, honestly. There just isn't that much I'm dying to look up online - to fill 10 hours that is. Okay, more like 7 hours. I do work for at least 3 hours per day, on average," I tell husband.

I plugged through college courses with visuals of being a incredible career woman, working in some social work aspect, saving the world, the mentally ill, their children, and many other groups of those who needed 'help'. Ahhh what naïve dreams...

Husband wasn't thrilled with the move to Philly. Being a 'Pittsburghian' (is this a word? Doubt it, but it fits him), I wonder if he just felt an obligation to that side of the state? Or perhaps it was the sting operation he witnessed on my interview day? From the vehicle, while waiting on me on Ridge Avenue, he was probably seeking a nap but was abruptly interrupted as undercover policemen surrounded the vehicle and literally pounce on a male passerby. Turns out, he had robbed a bank not that far away and not that long ago. Interview over - I return to vehicle. Feeling elated from a great interview and a job that pays well enough, I return saying, "this could be a real opportunity!" where he then replied "no way in hell are you gonna work here".

So, obviously we moved to Philadelphia and I worked 'There'. Due to that not so great experience on interview day, we did not however move into the city. We became suburbians, commuters, traffic-haters. Let me back up - I said We. ReallyI meant 'I'. I commute into the city. I am a traffic-hater. I have an 1.5 hour commute. We live in the suburbs. Husband works in the suburbs. Lucky Husband!

I worked 4 years 'There' by moving from Interpreter, to Case Manager aka Social Worker/ Counselor, and onto Supervisor. In the end, I do not believe I saved the world, much less one mentally ill person, any children, or other deaf individuals. And what does it exactly mean to 'save' someone? I realized thru my experiences, 'saving'someone just isn't possible. You can provide them only with tools in which to save themselves. The last year there was something I should never have put myself thru. I should have quit from the moment I woke up feeling ill at the thought of going in to work. Why, self, did you not just quit!? Moving on.

Finally the Government opportunity. The job is really not bad at all. ButI don't want to say that - I want to say "I like my job! Wow, what a day! I did so much! The day just flew by!" I'm not even asking to love my job, just like. But again its really not that bad. There are some fabulous perks - great insurance, a 4 day work week, flex hours, guaranteed pay raises, paying for grad school (part of it anyway), a day care onsite (and in another post, for those of you shocked at my mention of a day care, I'll give you more info on this topic that involves the word 'child'), and so many more perks to name yet, I work to remain grateful for them. Husband says "man, I wish my job had that stuff. You're lucky." I know I know. A girl can't help how she feels though, right?

I now know what I really want to do - thank you Lord. I miss math, numbers, calculations. I move forward to 'Goal'. Stick it out till next August. Then will have two years of government service. Almost done with my Masters in Accounting. Maybe a child on the way?? Friends (or others?), please do not send me emails asking if I have fallen ill or if some stranger has taken over my blog at the child comment. No and No to both of these. Until then, I go to work, work, clock watch till lunch break, eat, read, return to desk, repeat. But like I said, its really not that bad.

All of these points come out in dinner conversation. Husband must be tired of this dominating mealtime chatter, I'm sure of it. "Hey, will you watch Jeopardy with me? Really watch it with me too, you know what I mean." Meaning I normally read a magazine while he plays/watches Jeopardy on his own. "Sure" I say while thinking 'that damn show, ugh'. He dashes his dishes to the sink and body into the living room. The things I do for husband.