S.O.S.
I truly mean it in both ways of interpretation.
Same Old Situation:
Yes it's like the bank here. Well... There aren't a lot of impotent, frustrated middle aged men running around, but things change and yet they don't. I'm still pigeon-holed in this fantastically frustrating position of being over qualified to do what I do. They call me an executive assistant, and all I hear is secretary. I wouldn't have taken the job if I knew that what they were hiring me to do. Never trust an employer and I've learned that when they interview you, you too are interviewing them. The shiny gloss they polished themselves with before I took this job was just that. A way of obscuring the truth from my eyes by blinding me with a reflection of what I wanted to see.
I'm stuck here now, for awhile. I need to regroup and figure out what it is I'm going to do with my life. If I'm filing and answering phones in five years, I'm also swinging from the rafters, preferably by a telephone cord for the irony.
I could write a roman a clef all about the monsters I've worked with. But honestly do I think I'm going to make any money writing about people no one cares about. Self importance is only that, importance of self, no one else cares. I'd need to take a job with some one who means some thing to the world, not just some one who things they do.
As it stands I'm waiting for health insurance, and perhaps some spiritual awakening that will allow me to go through the motions of my life without feeling all the pain.
Same Old Situation:
Yes it's like the bank here. Well... There aren't a lot of impotent, frustrated middle aged men running around, but things change and yet they don't. I'm still pigeon-holed in this fantastically frustrating position of being over qualified to do what I do. They call me an executive assistant, and all I hear is secretary. I wouldn't have taken the job if I knew that what they were hiring me to do. Never trust an employer and I've learned that when they interview you, you too are interviewing them. The shiny gloss they polished themselves with before I took this job was just that. A way of obscuring the truth from my eyes by blinding me with a reflection of what I wanted to see.
I'm stuck here now, for awhile. I need to regroup and figure out what it is I'm going to do with my life. If I'm filing and answering phones in five years, I'm also swinging from the rafters, preferably by a telephone cord for the irony.
I could write a roman a clef all about the monsters I've worked with. But honestly do I think I'm going to make any money writing about people no one cares about. Self importance is only that, importance of self, no one else cares. I'd need to take a job with some one who means some thing to the world, not just some one who things they do.
As it stands I'm waiting for health insurance, and perhaps some spiritual awakening that will allow me to go through the motions of my life without feeling all the pain.
posted by selling my soul at 12:50 PM
1 Comments:
Oh honey.. have you read the Nanny Diaries? No one cares about those people either.. the ones they nannied for.. but yet, she wrote a book and voila! No more nannying..
The stuff you write about anyone would pick up.. We've all had shitty jobs.. all had to suffer thru something.. but I wish you out of that soon. I hope you don't have to hang in there too long.
xoxo
Post a Comment
<< Home