Argh! Dear Imaginary Friends, may I vent?
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I'm grateful for the job I have because it's flexible for the industry, pays well, and sometimes has a really interesting problem to solve. I have it, and but-for my complaining about it, it's stable and secure. Still it gnaws at me because it's so contrary to my goals and what I like to think of as myself. It's not what I went to grad school for and it's contrary to the central tenet of my personal philosophy. I think of my favorite professor, who died shortly after I started this job, and I think of my mentor who was so helpful in getting me started, and I wonder how disappointed they'd be in me.
I had my chance to do something I loved, something I felt fulfilled by, and something that I found meaningful in the world, and I screwed it up. My own fault, I know it, this is the bed I've made, so I'm lying in it.
And here's the ARGH!: the rest of my life is great, maybe even the best it's ever been. My friends are good and interesting people. My family is nearby and good and interesting people. My house is awesome and my Guy is too. We travel; we're healthy and secure. I live precisely where I've wanted to since my first visit when I was 5. I even have a small part in a fundraising project for a philanthropy. That conspires, I think, to de-motivate me from doing the things I need to do to fix my career.
I need to "network" more. I need to devote more free time to projects that give me the right current experience to move back into what I want to do. I need to
try, if what I really want is a job that I find meaningful or at least doesn't conflict with my moral-self.
But at 5:00 on the weekdays, and on Saturdays and Sunday, I'm
happy and so I fitter away all grasshopper-y, enjoying my free time and the happiness the rest of my life has, when I should be ant-ing toward want.
ARGH!