Untitled Alex Post Vanity Project

Jobs, Careers, Lifepaths

THAT is a melodramatic title.  But I’m feeling a little dramatic.  Or panicked.  I suppose I need to take a deep breath because my “problem” is one that, in this economy, approximately 94.3% of the population would love to have:  I might be getting a job offer on Friday.  I stress might.

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This is, of course, a great thing.  Setting aside the fact my current position at the court expires at the end of August, even getting to the last round of a hiring process is a very validating experience.  And the potential new job…it’s a good job.  Really, it’s a great job.  But maybe not for me.  I don’t know.  I have some doubts, but I don’t really have time to explore them.  If I’m lucky (?) enough to get an offer at the end of this week, it sounds like they want an answer by early next week.

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I need a job, so in some sense, any job is a good job.  That sentiment is doubly true given the aforementioned economy.  And as much as I’d love to join the ranks of the “funemployed,” I don’t think my student loan provider  would understand that I can’t make my $900/mo. payment because that cash is going to cheap beer and good paperstock for my novel.  So I suppose I shouldn’t delve too deeply into grand “what do I want to do with my life” questions.  I need to focus on the immediate.  But I don’t want to do that only to wake up five years from now unhappy in a job that has become a career.

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Because, face it, at some point, your job or jobs or field do/does become your career, and your career largely defines your life.  As much as you might like to think of a job as something you do that pays the bills and gives you the means to pursue what you really want to do, when people ask what you do, they mean, what is your career, what is your job?  When you die, your grandchildren will say, “Grandpa was a _____.”  Unless you know that underscore will read “stunt pilot,” or “famous author,” its hard not to wonder if you’re making the right choices.

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Again, this is all too early.  Chances are I’ll get turned down this Friday and I’ll be back on here whining about needing to find some job, any job.  I’ll be applying to split cleaning shifts with this guy.  But the interview went well, hence metaphysical crisis.  And if I’m being honest, this is really a discussion about getting old(er) and having one’s decisions carry more weight, to the point of generating a (possibly self-fulfilling) feeling of lifestyle inertia.  There aren’t many 40 year old rookie stunt pilots.