I know being employed is a gift, especially in this field. As someone who went through the sifting through job posts for months, constantly revamping my resume I know I should be grateful, happy, satisfied even.
But I’m not.
I’m feeling antsy, unsteady and ready for life to start.
I know this sounds crazy because I’m on track. I got a job right after I graduated, worked my butt off, quit and got a better job.
I’ve been working for the Daily News now for almost a year and have settled in perfectly. I have friends, my writing has improved, contacts call me and I produce more than anyone else in the newsroom. Yet, I don’t feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.
I’m starting to realize that people really discover who they are as a person in their 20s. Even two years ago I was a different person. But now, I’m realizing that I have a heart for change, constant change.
I hate knowing where I’ll be tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. I work in a field that’s ever-changing and the daily assignments are certainly unknown, but I still feel monotony overpowering my daily life.
Last night, I was driving home from a get-together at a friend’s house and I started to feel it – that uneasy feeling that comes on when you know in your heart-of-hearts that something is awry. I’ve looked into finally leaving my parents house and renting in my town with a friend, something I never thought would happen.
I’ve always said I don’t want to stay in my town. I want to experience life outside of my small town and now I feel like I’m settling even more.
I don’t want to die here doing the same thing I’ve always done.
I have no clue how to fix this problem. As a Christian, I believe God has a certain plan for my life, but I’ve got no clue what that is. I need Him to tell me, I need something to happen, I need for life to start.
I think the uneasiness is starting to resurface old insecurities now. I was washing off a plate in the break room at work and looked over to see our head of Human Resources sitting at a table, eating a bowl of soup alone. No wedding band on her finger.
My immediate thoughts were that this place, the newsroom, the area and this field, are death beds. This is where you land and die — typically alone.
I know this is a ridiculously sad and depressing thought. But the newsroom is plagued with bachelors for life and old maids (forgive me for using these outdated phrases but the reality is there).
We’ve got women in their late 40s not dating, not looking – they’re satisfied with going to work, hanging out with work friends and starting over the next morning. I’m not there and I’m praying I won’t get there.
Then, I started thinking that if I continue on the path I’m on, am I destined to be where they are in 20 years? Will I be sitting at the same desk, going home to an empty apartment and finishing my day with a chat with my pet hamster?
I don’t know, I just don’t know.