I really don't like my job.

It's not the worst job I've ever held, oh not by a long shot. The people are (usually) decent, it pays the bills, and they've been quite flexible about my hours since I started grad school. All of these are good things.

But it doesn't change the basic fact that I am way too good for this.

That sounds so egotistical, I know.

I know!

But really? Honestly? I am capable of much better, was meant to do much more, than sit at a desk answering email and scheduling other people's meetings. Oh, and let us not forget organizing and stuffing 700 envelopes once per month.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. Not to disparage those who enjoy their careers as support staff. Hell, if I was willing to completely sublimate my personality, I could make a helluva lot of money on this particular career path.

But I can't. Nor would I want to.

This job is just filler. Something to keep a roof over my head until I finish my MA and can find something that may not be glamourous, or pay all that well, but that will give me a sense of fulfillment at the end of the day. Like I've done something more worthwhile than search out contact information or order lunch.


Before you think me completely snooty, consider the following:

I spend more time on eBay than I do on actual work. I don't see anything wrong with this, as my actual work still gets done. There is just a gross disproportion between the number of hours in the work day and the amount of work with which I have to fill them.

A few minutes ago I got my Google Reader back down to Zero. Second only to the fact that the drink fridge now contains flavoured Poland Spring seltzer water, it was the highlight of my week.

I have developed an antagonistic relationship with the colour copier. This generally consists of me muttering things like "I'm coming, I'm coming, keep your pants on..." and "Now, now, don't get your knickers in a twist!" when it starts beeping for me to feed more glossy paper into the auto-bypass tray, which will only take about 40 sheets at a time and I'm making 700 copies...

I am late for work every day. I only bother making an excuse if it's by over 20 minutes. Nobody seems to notice.

The company finally hired someone to replace my boss who left in July. The New Guy starts next week, so when I get back from PA I'll be back to having 2 bosses.

Nobody bothered to tell me.

But they looked at me like I was crazy when they mentioned him by name and I had no clue who they were talking about.

None of this surprised me.


Now perhaps you understand why I fantasize about quitting on a daily basis.

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Ed Note: I know this post is faff, but it's all I got. The remainder of the week should hopefully bode more interesting material, as I'm meeting Ashley and Samantha on Thursday!

If I were the "squee"-ing type, that is what I would do... but I am not, so a simple "Hoorah!!" will have to suffice.

HOORAH!!