It hit me when I was being shown how to press the spell check button: I need a new job.
I don’t exactly remember the moment when I thought it was a good idea to become a newspaper reporter, but at this moment I have a very strong desire to slap that 19-year-old girl right in the face.
She was so hopeful, such a dreamer. Sadly, the reality the 24-year-old me is facing is nothing like what I had envisioned.
I guess I had pictured myself chasing down stories that would change history like Woodward and Bernstein. Where’s my Watergate? Where’s my smoking gun?
It’s not shown up in three years of working tirelessly and I think I’m done looking. It’s a real shame to realize you dislike your job after you get your degree. Even more so when you realize the job you don’t want to do is literally the only thing you’re qualified for in the world.
In school, I worked hard so I could get a job. I interned at multiple newspapers and did everything with the hopes that one day somebody might want to hire me.
After working tireless Saturdays, going to the stupidest fairs and school assemblies and listening to countless folks who thought they had the next amazing story I still thought this was a good idea.
I am so dumb.
Now, I’m stuck. I’m literally stuck doing this. Why me?
To be fair, the signs were on the wall long before now. I had the worst first job ever. Seriously, my job was way worse than yours, no matter what you did.
OK, morticians may beat me but that is absolutely it.
I worked for a woman who thought everyone was out to get her and screw her over. She checked her employees email, web history and called on the hour if we weren’t in the office to see what we were up to.
In the nine months that I worked for her I can count the number of compliments I got from her on one hand, well let’s be honest – two fingers. The idiot that I am, though, didn’t even let all of that stop me from continuing on with the terrible job.
It wasn’t until she walked in one Wednesday – I remember that day actually starting out really good – and she told me she didn’t think I should continue in her employ.
She said I seemed unhappy and she didn’t want unhappy people working for her. I was 21 and had no clue what I was doing so her offer to let me quit rather than be fired seemed like a really good idea.
It wasn’t until my parents said that meant no severance pay that I realized she had manipulated me up until the last minute of my employment.
But, hey, that wasn’t the newspaper industries fault. That was bad circumstances and there were good days thrown in there. So what do I do? I jump right back on the saddle after a short sabbatical.
I got a job at a daily newspaper and thought I was on top of the world. The plan was simple, work there for a few months, find a nice cushy PR job and then quit.
It’s been nearly two years since that first day. I think my plan was a bust, as usual.
So here I sit, wanting to quit because I have just been shown how to use spell check, again. Cheers to graduate school in the fall.