Tuesday, September 22, 2015

The Job Ride

It's like any whining, rattling ride at the fair you strap yourself into, your pulse pounding and stomach fluttering.  It's the job search.

This time I strap myself in without the overwhelming greed for the brass ring.  I don't need to stand up on a shuddering machine at 150 miles an hour and try to grab any rigged "prize".  I want to land where there's a good spot for me.

I want progress in meaningful work, ideally, but in lieu of that a paycheck that doesn't cost me my health or my soul. I'd love to have a desk, a title and a bit of respect-but I won't do it if it makes me hate life.

There are costs I won't pay, this time.  I won't bear any abuse.  I won't overwork to my own detriment or stay in a toxic environment.

If that means driving a shuttle bus for a mundane cause, if it means simple phone work or something else "menial" but I get to keep my healthy nervous system and have a life, then I won't balk. I've got nothing to prove to anybody.

I've got hopes, of course.  But I'm ready for the rough parts.  It won't be my first ride and I won't throw up this time.  I'll keep my fingers and toes in, keep my seat belt on tight and scream when I need to.  But this time I know I'll land on the ground and even if I do a dizzy stumble at first, I'll recover.   I will walk straight again.

It's just a ride.

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