I got a new job this week. Full-time, decent pay, and so far… I don’t hate it. I actually like it enough that I’m looking forward to learning more things and having more to do. Moreover, it’s a nice little office job with a consistent schedule and all weekends off.
My last job was at a call center. And it was a nightmare. I hated constantly dealing with people and having no escape. I hated not knowing from week to week what my schedule would be. I hated being told to work nights (which I never wanted in the first place, but wasn’t allowed to change) and having to pay ten dollars’ parking for the privilege. I also hated taking the bus. I especially hated never knowing which phone call would be That One Customer with the horrible attitude who sent me back to being a helpless little girl whose drunken father screamed at her and wouldn’t leave her alone. (Fun Fact: one “nasty customer” incident was so bad I actually blacked out.) My co-workers were nice enough, but everything else… NO.
My new job is so different in every possible way, so much so it’s almost like part of the reason I got my last job was to help me appreciate this one. A bad day at my current job would still be better than a good day at my old one. And yes, it pays better, too.
If this entry seems a little all-over-the-place, that’s because it’s how I’m feeling. I’m just not used to things going well to such an extent and I’m not sure what to do with myself. I can have a routine now. I’ll have all the money I need to get the stuff I want. And even if I grumble a bit about waking up early, actually being at work at this job is something I don’t mind. Me with a decent income, a satisfying job, and some kind of working treatment for my depression/anxiety issues…. That’s never happened before. I know I should just be happy about it, but it feels so strange. Like part of me doesn’t believe it and may not for a long time and at the same time, I sort of believe it and have no idea what to do.
I still want to work on games. And that novel that’s been long-neglected. My creativity is part of who I am. I’m just (again) in this weird state of quasi-disbelief right now and the last month has been soveryunusual. I’ve never asked myself “What do I want? And where do I go from here?” from this vantage point before. A point where “Keep making stuff and pray for a miracle” doesn’t feel like my last hope and I’m not required to live in quiet desperation.
Having the option to Make Stuff again just because I want to. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that. A very long time indeed.