For a long time, I thought I would become a doctor. Coming from a family of medical personnel, it seemed doable. Until I had high school chemistry. Which I hated.
Then, I thought I could become a writer. But, then I realized that the world is full of writers and that it is very hard to make a living as a writer.
So, I decided to do what I was good at, and studied languages.
Since I didn't want to be a translator, I got an MBA and went into marketing.
It turns out that marketing managers often aren't nice people and I have trouble caring about selling stuff that helps no one and in fact could hurt people. So, I transferred to HR.
For awhile, I thought I was helping people because I could help them get answers and lend an open ears in time of stress, etc. For awhile before my leave, it felt like I started to drown in nonsense. Like we no longer treated people as capable adults. We also added so many processes that our processes have processes.
To add insult to injury, the strategic projects that I was in charge of before are now gone since my replacement wasn't qualified to do them. And now, since my boss is having trouble getting meaningful work for herself as well, which understandably means that most meaningful work she keeps for herself.
In a nutshell: I am bored and I feel like 85% of what I do is meaningless and treats my "customers" like they are utter idiots. It is hard.
A part of me feels like my inner hippie needs out- in reality I see myself as a darn crunchy mom and friend who would love to do something where it would matter if I didn't do it- something where I am actually helping and / or writing- doing something more freely.
If only it weren't for those pesky student loans that I probably have 10 years or more left to pay back on. Or maybe, just maybe, I can do both. It would be a lot of work, trying to write enough on the side, but who knows- maybe I would finally feel like I am what I should be, now that I am a grownup.
In the meantime I am trying my best not to let the stress of work get to me and put off the feeling that my cells are slowly bonding with my outdated desk as I sit away my days- at least I earn a good wage (and I am grateful for what it provides us!)- but sometimes things get so ridiculous and nonsensical that I want to run away screaming.
Writing instead seems to be helping for now, at least.