Working

Here's a parred down version of excerpts from an e-mail I sent a few people regarding the day-to-day grind of my first real-real-real job working in a cubicle and my subsequent rejection of that life with built-in inner turmoil. All I can say is, time-wasting is the worst type of waste, so if you know you want to change something, get to it.

"I've just started this new job, I thought it pertinent information to let you know I am quitting.

"Yes.

"You read that correctly...

"I had been chatting with my dad [about my stint on the job so far, and really could only say],"Meh" about it. And it was bizarre. Larry, the man that just wants his kids to get jobs and fall in [the corporate] line, says to me: "Bridge, if you're not happy there, don't do it. You'll get something else." He didn't even encourage me to give it a little more time. Seriously. He went into a spiel about [his first job out of college, describing how he would] just get antsy. That's like me, antsy...

"What's weird is, I went out with some kids from [the company] the other day after work and while walking to the restaurant learned that mostly everyone who works [there] at the same position as me haven't even realized how long they've been at the company. They're content in a sort of job coma. I mean, it's got to be the benefits! I swear, none of the fun jobs offer them. My suspicion has me thinking that perhaps it's a way for the fun jobs to weed out the faint of heart. But. That said. What good is a healthy body, if it's only to serve as a shelter for a broken heart and a job comatose soul?

"Note: I am going to use it eventually in my book: My Life as a Non Journalist."

Other tales of working woes:
John

Susan

Middleness

There's even a whole website devoted to venting about your job. People need to man-up and leave what they don't like. Stagnant. Content. Interchangeable. I don't like that. If you google "I hate my job" in quotes you get over three-million sites. That's sad. It seems other people are less acclimated to life in a paid-to-go-to-a-place-that-feels-like-a-punishment.

I'm Not 23 Yet, but I will be

"Lelaina: I was really gonna be something by the age of 23.
Troy: Honey, the only thing you have to be by the age of 23 is yourself.
Lelaina: I don’t know who that is anymore." -Reality Bites

Next week I turn 23 years old. I may or may not be something by next week, Wednesday to be exact. In October when I came home for the weekend of my cousin Maureen's wedding I had a 23rd birthday party, off the cuff, at a hibachi restaurant called Mikasa Sukasa. Really I was just out with some cohorts of mine, and they decided all at once without planning that it was my birthday. The slew of Japanese waiters sang me their version of "Happy Birthday," I ate a pineapple with cocktail umbrellas in it, and was sad that I was so old.

It's weird that I'm actually going to be that old pretty soon. The funny thing is, I'm pretty sure 40-something-year-old moms and dads or even 30-year-old unmarrieds think, "Psh! Brigid, you're so young!" But not my parents. No, for them I'm never actually my own age, I'm either the 4-year-old version ["Do you need to get tucked in?"], 15-year-old version ["Brigid, stop being so hostile."] or 30-year-old version of myself ["Why don't you have your own business, job, house? Make sure you have a kid before you're too old."]. For real, this all happens. Seriously.

But I do think it would probably be quite difficult to be away from their kid for so long that they missed those actual maturation years in college, years where they couldn't be there, otherwise there might not have been such a drastic change. So, now that I'm home, there's this sort of push and pull where they don't know how old my age should equate to their treatment of me, or really any of my five siblings. [See our recently implemented 12 a.m. curfew for week nights and 2 a.m. on weekends. For real. I need to leave.]

It would all have been much easier if I actually was allowed by our ailing society to become the "something by the time I was 23." Unfortunately, Troy's response is true, but is something incomprehensible to myself and the Larry/Sheila Duo. And Lelaina's response makes it all the better, because for me, "I don't know who that is anymore" either.

Reality Bites. Not So Much.

Lelaina: Quick, Vicky, whats your social security?
Vicky: Uhm... 851-25-9357.
Troy: Very impressive.
Vicky: Thats the only thing I really learned in college... Sometimes I get that not so fresh feeling.

By now everyone should know how much I love the movie Reality Bites. It's hilarious and should be required movie-watching for the under-30s.