I’ve said it many times and I’ll say it again, “I don’t hate my job, I just resent being tethered to a job.” — it’s the schedule, really. Each time my alarm goes off I think, “Hell. Here we go again.” I know that my body does not want to go to work because if I have to get up early to, say, leave for the ferry, it’s a whole lot easier to do; in fact I often wake up before the alarm.
So why do I do it?
I never once as a kid or even as a young adult thought, “I’m going to work in a library and maybe stay there until I retire.” Never. My first job was as a page in the public library, shelving books and it was easy, once I got to university, to apply for a similar entry-level job at the academic library. When I tossed out my plans to do the Post-Degree Professional Program in order to get a teaching certificate, it was straightforward to apply for a permanent position at the library. In the interview, I was asked, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I replied, “Pfaah. Not Here.” That was 1992.
Two years later, I thought, “This is so not where I want to be,” and applied to take Pre-Apprenticeship Plumbing at the local college. Six months and one certificate later, finding an apprenticeship proved to be harder than I’d hoped (only two people from our class of 19 landed apprenticeships within the first year) so I went back to the library.
I moved up the ladder, doing some very interesting jobs, getting involved with the union off the side of my desk, and basically doing my best to get the most out of my job, but it still wasn’t where I really wanted to be. When I got pregnant, I vowed I would not be returning after maternity leave — but I didn’t quit either. In 2001, while on leave, we started an IT co-operative. We had no idea what we were doing and it showed. So, I went back to the library. I worked part time initially but had to go back full time when it was clear the co-op was not going to pay our bills.
Nearly 10 years later, I am still here. Full time. In the library where I didn’t expect or want to be. According to Seth Godin, I am likely sheepwalking. I love this term; basically going through the motions, doing what I am told. Unfortunately, in an organization the size of which I work in, a lot of work is just that. While I have a very supportive supervisor and manager, there are limits to the change I can effect from my position in the organizational tree. I have also been known to shake said tree from time to time by sharing my opinions with those above and around me. But while I may find sympathetic ears, there are channels and … well at some point every bureaucracy starts to feel like the Office of Information Retrieval from Brazil or the Vogons in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
So what do I do now?
I’ve been sort of poking around the edges, looking for an alternate route for some time: writing more, crafting, meeting people, and trying to figure out what, exactly, I do want to be doing. That’s what the “Purpose Party” was all about — our retreat in April — since then, we’ve met a couple of times and while some people are pushing forward, I’m…. well I’m still at the library, sheepwalking because it’s the easiest path.
Once again, Seth Godin nailed my dilemma with a post this morning, Easy and certain:
The lottery is great, because it’s easy. Not certain, but easy. If you win, the belief goes, you’re done.
Medical school is great because it’s certain. Not easy, but certain. If you graduate, the belief goes, you’re done.
Most people are searching for a path to success that is both easy and certain.
Most paths are neither.
I need to find my direction somewhere between the lottery (which would be awesome) and medical school (which scares the hell out of me) because sheepwalking is killing me.
