Will there ever be a Why You Should Quit Your Job Part 3? Who knows? I've been busy with working at the New Job, and I really like it, and I'm not sure I have the energy to think back to the old one right now. Maybe later.
Seattle is in the grips of Snowpocalypse 2k10 and I've been home all day, packing for my upcoming move to the Eastside. Moving In With the BF is also an event worth capital letters, but I'm concerned less with the emotions behind that and more with the sheer number of boxes crowding my current apartment. It's not just the boxes of STUFF, it's the boxes of breakable/decorative mess that can't really go in the back of a U-Haul, lest it all shatter. "It'll just go in the backseat of the car" is what I'm thinking about 10 boxes and several paintings and a samurai sword. We'll see if it works out.
But talking about boxes is boring. Instead, let me tell you about what unholiness I will be unleashing upon the BF's family for Thanksgiving. I volunteered to bring fruit and veg (their dinner last year was lacking in these departments) in the form of cranberry sauce and green bean casserole. The casserole is a family recipe full of cream of mushroom soup and french fried onions, but for the cranberry sauce, I wanted to get creative with it.
I decided to make a pear and cranberry sauce, figuring that would be Food Networky enough to impress but easy enough that it wouldn't severely interfere with my packing schedule. I got most of the ingredients this past weekend, knowing that the snow would make grocery stores harder to get to, and today I set about making everything. I chopped pears and boiled them with a bit of water and honey, plus cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice and huge chunks of ginger for flavor.
However, instead of getting fresh or frozen cranberries, I got canned sauce. Whoops. So now I have honey-ginger-cinnamon-nutmeg-allspice-infused cranberry jelly. Hot damn! Nothing says classy like doctored food from a can. I hope it tastes okay.
Off to watch Fargo with the Roommate and the Cat.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Why You Should Quit Your Job, Part 2: Deciding to quit is the worst part
Quitting your job is a huge pain in the ass.
I acknowledge that saying that is pretty selfish. Thousands of people have lost their jobs. They don't have the luxury of being able to choose whether or not they have income. Many people can't find jobs. Many people hate their jobs, but need to stay for the benefits, whatever those might be.
I'm not married. I don't have kids. I don't have a medical condition. I don't have a mortgage. I don't own a car, and so have no car payments, insurance, maintenance, gas, or parking to worry about. When I make a life-altering decision, my meager life is the only one directly affected.
On the other hand, I hear about people who up and quit their jobs to change careers or take an "Eat Pray Love"-style romp around the globe, and that is because these people have money saved up. For all the things I didn't have, I must include money. I didn't have savings. When I turned in my notice, I had about $300 in the bank and whatever my final paycheck was going to be on the way. I may not have a car or a mortgage, but I still have to make rent, and pay my cell phone and student loans, and feed my cat (not to mention myself). I had been fantasizing about leaving my job for over a year at that point, but I just couldn't save anything.
Firstly, quitting your job is a pain in the ass because you have to be prepared for it mentally even if you aren't financially. I can't tell you whether you should quit. Everyone's got their own personal tolerance for frustrations in the workplace, and everyone's got reasons to stay. I could lecture you about how, in my idealistic world with unicorns and cotton candy clouds, the reasons for staying at a job you hate are really just excuses, and you're the only thing holding yourself back, and blah blah blah. I can only tell you that, for me, when my reasons started sounding like excuses and then the excuses just sounded hollow, I had some serious thinking to do.
With no savings lined up, I knew I would have to find a way to earn money somehow, any way that I could. I've had friends looking for jobs in my field for months, even years, and I knew that it was unlikely I would find anything quickly. And ya'll, the thought of taking some part-time job or some minimum-wage job was so disheartening. It's like taking a step back when you've spent all this time and money on an education that is supposed to open doors for you. What will it look like on a resume if I go from a full-time gig to working the register at McDonald's? Will that adversely affect my job hunt in the future? Will I have to get two or more part-time jobs, and then never really have time to myself?
If the goal of this is to make myself happy, isn't all this uncertainty and possible sucky existence going to make me very UNhappy?
The answer is: of course. There's no golden solution in this situation. Ever. There's a whole lot of ifs, and a whole lot of maybes, and a whole lot of wondering how the hell you can make rent on minimum wage. Maybe you can't find a job. Maybe you can, but your boss is just as awful or whatever problems you had are still there. Maybe you have to wear a uniform. Maybe it's not at all what you expect.
You can't do this with expectations. You can only do it with hope. When I got to the point that I felt trapped, and I wasn't sleeping, and I wasn't myself, and I dreaded going to work every day, I looked my Job-Quittin' Fantasy in the eye and told it, "I can't realize you until I'm okay with the idea of waiting tables or working a cash register."
Mostly I was scared. I was terrified of what would become of me and how I would make a living, but when I thought about it, I knew I wasn't going to end up in a gutter, begging for change and scraps. Worst case scenario for me: I sell my belongings to buy a plane ticket move back across the country and live with my parents, but even that just seemed silly. Second-worst case was having to stay on friends' couches or move in to my boyfriend's, and as much as the thought of being a mooch wounded my pride, I knew I could count on these people to support me in a difficult time, and I knew that I would be okay. I wasn't going to die. I wasn't going to starve. I am a capable person, and I could make it work.
After coming to that glorious, empowering realization, I continued to be scared for a couple of weeks - mostly in the form of crying to my boyfriend and frantically applying to any job I found on Craigslist - because, hell, self-confidence alone sure don't pay the bills. But the goal is happiness, and I knew I had to take a chance if I was going to find it.
I acknowledge that saying that is pretty selfish. Thousands of people have lost their jobs. They don't have the luxury of being able to choose whether or not they have income. Many people can't find jobs. Many people hate their jobs, but need to stay for the benefits, whatever those might be.
I'm not married. I don't have kids. I don't have a medical condition. I don't have a mortgage. I don't own a car, and so have no car payments, insurance, maintenance, gas, or parking to worry about. When I make a life-altering decision, my meager life is the only one directly affected.
On the other hand, I hear about people who up and quit their jobs to change careers or take an "Eat Pray Love"-style romp around the globe, and that is because these people have money saved up. For all the things I didn't have, I must include money. I didn't have savings. When I turned in my notice, I had about $300 in the bank and whatever my final paycheck was going to be on the way. I may not have a car or a mortgage, but I still have to make rent, and pay my cell phone and student loans, and feed my cat (not to mention myself). I had been fantasizing about leaving my job for over a year at that point, but I just couldn't save anything.
Firstly, quitting your job is a pain in the ass because you have to be prepared for it mentally even if you aren't financially. I can't tell you whether you should quit. Everyone's got their own personal tolerance for frustrations in the workplace, and everyone's got reasons to stay. I could lecture you about how, in my idealistic world with unicorns and cotton candy clouds, the reasons for staying at a job you hate are really just excuses, and you're the only thing holding yourself back, and blah blah blah. I can only tell you that, for me, when my reasons started sounding like excuses and then the excuses just sounded hollow, I had some serious thinking to do.
With no savings lined up, I knew I would have to find a way to earn money somehow, any way that I could. I've had friends looking for jobs in my field for months, even years, and I knew that it was unlikely I would find anything quickly. And ya'll, the thought of taking some part-time job or some minimum-wage job was so disheartening. It's like taking a step back when you've spent all this time and money on an education that is supposed to open doors for you. What will it look like on a resume if I go from a full-time gig to working the register at McDonald's? Will that adversely affect my job hunt in the future? Will I have to get two or more part-time jobs, and then never really have time to myself?
If the goal of this is to make myself happy, isn't all this uncertainty and possible sucky existence going to make me very UNhappy?
The answer is: of course. There's no golden solution in this situation. Ever. There's a whole lot of ifs, and a whole lot of maybes, and a whole lot of wondering how the hell you can make rent on minimum wage. Maybe you can't find a job. Maybe you can, but your boss is just as awful or whatever problems you had are still there. Maybe you have to wear a uniform. Maybe it's not at all what you expect.
You can't do this with expectations. You can only do it with hope. When I got to the point that I felt trapped, and I wasn't sleeping, and I wasn't myself, and I dreaded going to work every day, I looked my Job-Quittin' Fantasy in the eye and told it, "I can't realize you until I'm okay with the idea of waiting tables or working a cash register."
Mostly I was scared. I was terrified of what would become of me and how I would make a living, but when I thought about it, I knew I wasn't going to end up in a gutter, begging for change and scraps. Worst case scenario for me: I sell my belongings to buy a plane ticket move back across the country and live with my parents, but even that just seemed silly. Second-worst case was having to stay on friends' couches or move in to my boyfriend's, and as much as the thought of being a mooch wounded my pride, I knew I could count on these people to support me in a difficult time, and I knew that I would be okay. I wasn't going to die. I wasn't going to starve. I am a capable person, and I could make it work.
After coming to that glorious, empowering realization, I continued to be scared for a couple of weeks - mostly in the form of crying to my boyfriend and frantically applying to any job I found on Craigslist - because, hell, self-confidence alone sure don't pay the bills. But the goal is happiness, and I knew I had to take a chance if I was going to find it.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Why You Should Quit Your Job, Part 1: The job sucks
Since moving to Seattle, this is the one topic I've most wanted to write about. It's what I have thought about the most for the past six months, and it's not an easy thing to think about at all.
I moved to the area without a job in August of 2008, right as everything was going to shit. No one really knew how bad things would get, but it was the beginning of the housing crisis (or at least the public's knowledge of it) and expensive government bailouts that would eventually do nothing. That summer the country was on the brink of the recession, and I was only barely aware of that as I packed up my things to move to a city I had never been to before, full of confidence that I could find something in my field before my meager savings dried up.
I was lucky when not many were; after a month of searching, I had a job offer from a non-profit. They had a part-time office manager, but wanted someone full-time, which sucked for her but was great for me. The salary they offered was abhorrently low - I could have made the same working a cash register - but it was survivable, the job was kinda in my field, and the commute was easy. I was also told to expect a significant raise after six months.
The first few months were a lot of fun. I learned my duties with enthusiasm, became close with my coworkers and got to meet the movers and shakers of the community through the events that we held. I got to know Seattle, made friends and became involved in volunteer groups and community organizations. The company had been lacking an Executive Director, and soon we hired one.
My dissatisfaction with the job began from there. There was never any health insurance, so I was struggling to afford an individual plan and quickly realized how expensive a cold can be when your yearly deductible is through the roof. My 6-month raise was not anywhere near what I expected, and of course the person who hired me and promised a grand raise was gone. We were losing money and there were other financial cutbacks.
With the new boss came changes, as well. Suddenly I wasn't allowed to help out at evening or weekend events, leaving my coworker to handle them herself, because my boss wasn't 'comfortable' letting me take off a few hours later on to make up for it. I was the member liaison, but I couldn't interact with them, and I was robbed of any networking opportunities. Taking any time off, including sick time or vacation, became a hassle that ended in confrontation and a lecture in how we were supposed to be in the office 40 hours a week between the hours of 9 and 5, every single time. My boss had no technical expertise, which I excelled at, and no event planning experience, which my coworker had been doing for two years, but he refused to listen to our opinions and made decisions that wasted a lot of time and money. Anything he interpreted as a challenge to his authority was met with the simple statement: "You work for me."
The job became stifling. Every day was a challenge, and my coworkers and I joked that our boss took turns picking on us. I felt relieved on days when it was their turn and not mine. I looked for jobs but it was 2009 and there were no jobs, at least not that I felt I was qualified for. I wasn't an engineer or a lab tech or an attorney. I didn't have any concrete skills that were in demand.
Eventually, my coworker found another job and left. The only other employee besides my boss had started working from home because her position required a lot of travel. I was stuck in an office with just one other person, and this person decided that the solution to our budget problem was not to hire a replacement for my coworker, but to have me do both jobs. I was offered a small raise in return for the expectation that my output would be the same as when two people had been responsible for the same tasks.
For a while, things were better. I enjoyed the added responsibility, even if it had been given to me as an afterthought to the budget. My relationship with my boss even seemed to improve - at least, I wasn't so angry all the time any more. I wasn't as frustrated when he was his normal condescending self; I figured I was learning how better to deal with a difficult personality. We had a slew of unpaid interns in the office helping us with necessary daily tasks, which is pretty inappropriate for a workplace but sure did ease my burden a bit.
Then, after about 6 months of this situation, with me handling the daily office functions, event planning, outreach, and anything that needed doing by something with a power button, we held a huge event that went well, and I didn't feel good about it at all. All I could see was the things that weren't done or the things that went wrong, even though it had been a fine event. I had interns making cold calls and handling registrations, and had been working long hours. I hadn't been sleeping well, was fairly irritable all the time, and had developed a headache that never really went away. I didn't feel any sort of accomplishment when it was over... I just felt tired.
What's more, I looked down the road at more months of working as hard as I was, and I thought about having to manage the biggest event of the year, four times as big as the one I had just put together, and I had this overwhelming sense of despair. I knew I could do it - I can do anything - but I also knew I couldn't do it well. No amount of interns was going to make my headache go away.
I also realized that the 'improved' relations with my boss weren't actually improved at all. Things were still the same, but I just didn't care. I had resigned myself to his inappropriate and unprofessional behavior, and life was a whole lot easier if I just didn't acknowledge the anger any more. I had gotten used to it, and knew it would never change. That, more than anything, made me feel pathetic.
At that point, I knew I couldn't wait for the perfect job to come along and rescue me from my misery. I had to take matters into my own hands. So I quit my job.
I moved to the area without a job in August of 2008, right as everything was going to shit. No one really knew how bad things would get, but it was the beginning of the housing crisis (or at least the public's knowledge of it) and expensive government bailouts that would eventually do nothing. That summer the country was on the brink of the recession, and I was only barely aware of that as I packed up my things to move to a city I had never been to before, full of confidence that I could find something in my field before my meager savings dried up.
I was lucky when not many were; after a month of searching, I had a job offer from a non-profit. They had a part-time office manager, but wanted someone full-time, which sucked for her but was great for me. The salary they offered was abhorrently low - I could have made the same working a cash register - but it was survivable, the job was kinda in my field, and the commute was easy. I was also told to expect a significant raise after six months.
The first few months were a lot of fun. I learned my duties with enthusiasm, became close with my coworkers and got to meet the movers and shakers of the community through the events that we held. I got to know Seattle, made friends and became involved in volunteer groups and community organizations. The company had been lacking an Executive Director, and soon we hired one.
My dissatisfaction with the job began from there. There was never any health insurance, so I was struggling to afford an individual plan and quickly realized how expensive a cold can be when your yearly deductible is through the roof. My 6-month raise was not anywhere near what I expected, and of course the person who hired me and promised a grand raise was gone. We were losing money and there were other financial cutbacks.
With the new boss came changes, as well. Suddenly I wasn't allowed to help out at evening or weekend events, leaving my coworker to handle them herself, because my boss wasn't 'comfortable' letting me take off a few hours later on to make up for it. I was the member liaison, but I couldn't interact with them, and I was robbed of any networking opportunities. Taking any time off, including sick time or vacation, became a hassle that ended in confrontation and a lecture in how we were supposed to be in the office 40 hours a week between the hours of 9 and 5, every single time. My boss had no technical expertise, which I excelled at, and no event planning experience, which my coworker had been doing for two years, but he refused to listen to our opinions and made decisions that wasted a lot of time and money. Anything he interpreted as a challenge to his authority was met with the simple statement: "You work for me."
The job became stifling. Every day was a challenge, and my coworkers and I joked that our boss took turns picking on us. I felt relieved on days when it was their turn and not mine. I looked for jobs but it was 2009 and there were no jobs, at least not that I felt I was qualified for. I wasn't an engineer or a lab tech or an attorney. I didn't have any concrete skills that were in demand.
Eventually, my coworker found another job and left. The only other employee besides my boss had started working from home because her position required a lot of travel. I was stuck in an office with just one other person, and this person decided that the solution to our budget problem was not to hire a replacement for my coworker, but to have me do both jobs. I was offered a small raise in return for the expectation that my output would be the same as when two people had been responsible for the same tasks.
For a while, things were better. I enjoyed the added responsibility, even if it had been given to me as an afterthought to the budget. My relationship with my boss even seemed to improve - at least, I wasn't so angry all the time any more. I wasn't as frustrated when he was his normal condescending self; I figured I was learning how better to deal with a difficult personality. We had a slew of unpaid interns in the office helping us with necessary daily tasks, which is pretty inappropriate for a workplace but sure did ease my burden a bit.
Then, after about 6 months of this situation, with me handling the daily office functions, event planning, outreach, and anything that needed doing by something with a power button, we held a huge event that went well, and I didn't feel good about it at all. All I could see was the things that weren't done or the things that went wrong, even though it had been a fine event. I had interns making cold calls and handling registrations, and had been working long hours. I hadn't been sleeping well, was fairly irritable all the time, and had developed a headache that never really went away. I didn't feel any sort of accomplishment when it was over... I just felt tired.
What's more, I looked down the road at more months of working as hard as I was, and I thought about having to manage the biggest event of the year, four times as big as the one I had just put together, and I had this overwhelming sense of despair. I knew I could do it - I can do anything - but I also knew I couldn't do it well. No amount of interns was going to make my headache go away.
I also realized that the 'improved' relations with my boss weren't actually improved at all. Things were still the same, but I just didn't care. I had resigned myself to his inappropriate and unprofessional behavior, and life was a whole lot easier if I just didn't acknowledge the anger any more. I had gotten used to it, and knew it would never change. That, more than anything, made me feel pathetic.
At that point, I knew I couldn't wait for the perfect job to come along and rescue me from my misery. I had to take matters into my own hands. So I quit my job.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Welcome to Life Needs Subtitles
My name is Megan. I'm 27. I live in Seattle. I used to live in Japan - for four years! - and until very recently that's been the most defining aspect of my life.
For those of you who followed me here from LiveJournal, I hate to make you update your RSS feeds, but there's not much going on in my LJ community any more. Most of my friends there have left, and to be honest, after I moved away from Japan, my LJ blog lost a lot of its appeal. It was a way for me to keep in touch with friends while I was living abroad, and I had some readers who found me just because of the Japan aspect. Living in the United States is not exciting in the same way that living in Japan is, but I never really lost the Japan frame of mind when writing. "Post Office Adventures" just doesn't hold quite the same appeal in one's home country.
Since the steady decline and eventual cessation of posts a year ago, there's been plenty that I want to write about; I just never had the time, and the pressure to make it sound as interesting as Life in Japan zapped any enthusiasm I had.
This blog will change that! I don't have any neat theme to tie it together, but I want to share with you my thoughts, and recipes, and movie reviews, and the reasons why I quit the first job I've had in the States after two years smack in the middle of a recession. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I would do with a million dollars, and where the next best Happy Hour will be. Maybe people will read this for ideas on how to save money in Seattle, or for knitting/crochet project ideas, or for pictures of my cat. I have several grand illusions of how this blog will evolve, and I'm sure none of them will become reality.
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my collection of well-meaning rants that will hopefully appear on a semi-regular basis.
For those of you who followed me here from LiveJournal, I hate to make you update your RSS feeds, but there's not much going on in my LJ community any more. Most of my friends there have left, and to be honest, after I moved away from Japan, my LJ blog lost a lot of its appeal. It was a way for me to keep in touch with friends while I was living abroad, and I had some readers who found me just because of the Japan aspect. Living in the United States is not exciting in the same way that living in Japan is, but I never really lost the Japan frame of mind when writing. "Post Office Adventures" just doesn't hold quite the same appeal in one's home country.
Since the steady decline and eventual cessation of posts a year ago, there's been plenty that I want to write about; I just never had the time, and the pressure to make it sound as interesting as Life in Japan zapped any enthusiasm I had.
This blog will change that! I don't have any neat theme to tie it together, but I want to share with you my thoughts, and recipes, and movie reviews, and the reasons why I quit the first job I've had in the States after two years smack in the middle of a recession. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I would do with a million dollars, and where the next best Happy Hour will be. Maybe people will read this for ideas on how to save money in Seattle, or for knitting/crochet project ideas, or for pictures of my cat. I have several grand illusions of how this blog will evolve, and I'm sure none of them will become reality.
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my collection of well-meaning rants that will hopefully appear on a semi-regular basis.
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