it’s looking more and more likely that i might get a new job soon. my current job is a “for realsies job,” my affectionately juvenile term for something like “career.” i hesitate to use the c-word because it sounds so official and final, like this is what i do no matter what. that’s unrealistic in this sort of miscellaneous, editor/writer/photographer/webmaster/graphic designer deal i’ve carved out for myself currently. careers are for people who do one thing and stick with it.
i’m not a one-thing person. it’s one of the simultaneous perks and pitfalls of never having felt a calling, never knowing exactly what i wanted to do “with my life”/“when i grow up” (blegh). i studied writing in college not only because i like to write but because it was the best subject to facilitate highly varied interdisciplinary study. i could dip my toes into anything and everything while writing about it.
i’m all over the place with my interests, which makes for an interesting life that’s all over the place. not very stable or certain.
this new job would be much more like a career. it would be my first time as a full-time, salaried employee, first time with benefits and a 401k and other things i don’t exactly understand. (FSA or HSA? my preference? ummm…)
my job right now is adorable. i go to work and create something new every day. i participate in so much that’s valuable and wonderful, and my work is valued and crucial. i solve new problems, face new challenges and learn so many new skills all the time. i get to witness firsthand the positive impact of the organization on the community. by no means is it happy fun times forever and always, but overall it’s a fantastic environment and i’m passionate about what i do.
a couple months ago my mom told me i have to find a new health insurance policy, because when i turn 26 in two weeks i can’t piggyback on hers anymore. the first quote i got, to continue the same kind of coverage i have currently, was close to $500 a month. that’s for a 26-year-old woman with no diseases or chronic medical problems, non-smoker, with a pretty high deductable. $500. holy fuckballs, right?
i was eventually able to find a totally affordable policy (with no coverage for makin’ babies, because i guess that’s a large chunk of the price tag for women my age). still, that sticker shock money crisis meltdown persisted a while and made me wish i could pull in more of a paycheck for a number of reasons. i don't like feeling uncomfortable about money. i don’t want to be rich, i don’t want a lot of things. i just want enough income that i can not worry about it. there's plenty to struggle with in life--i don't think i need brokeness to add to my character.
this new opportunity fell into my lap almost as soon as i asked for it. kismet! it was so. much. money. i lunged at it. i spent four hours revamping my résumé. i visualized getting the job. i got all twitchy and high-pitched like i do when i really want something. adulthood! future! VANQUISHED!
now it’s materializing so of course i don’t know what i want anymore. would this new job be fun? it sounds like it might be. i’d still get to write and edit. i’d learn new things and parts of it would likely be easier. can i give up what i have now and take this risk? if it sucks would it be worth it for the extra money? does wondering that make me a soulless capitalist whore? a large part of me wants everything to stay as-is. to that end i even took a little semi-intentional dive in part of my last interview, just by being overly honest about a particular experience i lack. they still seem interested in me.
i guess if i’m offered the job i’ll go for it. gulp.