’til I try, I’ll never know.

Hi. I made this blog to get my life and my dreams back on track. I’m ten years out of college and I always thought–kidding. I love musicals, in case you can’t tell–I’ve already referenced two and I’m only two sentences in this entry. And I’m not ten years out of college, thank you very much.

So right now, I’m working for a corporate company. The work hours are from 9-6, but nobody ever goes home at six. Everyone stays for an hour at the least, to finish up work for the day. That’s at least 10 hours of work a day.

On top of that, everyone is assigned more tasks than they are supposed to do–heading committees during events which basically means that you do everything (instead of just being in charge of) in that committee (ie logistics, food).

I’m supposed to do research. That’s my main job description. I did not expect to also be a graphic and layout artist, administrative assistant, logistics chairman, and so on. I’m learning a lot, I guess, but I’m not paid enough for this.

Barely six months in I realized that this was not what I wanted to do with my life. I know what I want to do.

I’ve known since I was in high school.

But I have never pursued it–I was scared, my mother told me not to because I wouldn’t get enough money from it, maybe I didn’t think I was talented enough for it, I was afraid of what people would say. I never even admitted it out loud.

But working here, in a sometimes-okay-but-more-often-hateful job, I realized a few things.

Our Communications Associate has the most horrible grammar in the world. He is supposed to be good at writing (and you’d think knowing the basics of grammar would be given) but his speaking and writing (his grammar!) is atrocious. If a company like this can hire a person with less than mediocre English skills to take care of their communications (magazines, releases, etc), do I really want to be in this company? No. If a company like this does that, that might mean I have a future in the writing field after all.

Money. I make the least out of all of my acquaintances and friends from university. I studied in one of the top two universities of the country. I got good grades. I was active in student organizations. I work hard and I know I have more qualifications than some people who are currently earning more than I am. So why did I undersell myself? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. Being raised in the lower middle class portion of society, I never really dreamed or considered what I could achieve. Maybe I’d work in a desk job for the rest of my life, start from the bottom, earn a low salary and work my way up, those were the kind of things I thought. I have no ambitions–with the exception of earning my college degree. I had no ambitions.

I never considered that I could start from the middle, like most of my friends did. Or if they ever started from the bottom, they made sure to get a good price for it. So here I am, in my in a sometimes-okay-but-more-often-hateful job and I realized that if I’m going to be miserable like this, I’d have to at least earn more money to compensate for the miserable state of affairs OR do something I actually like even with a low salary.

Promises of a promotion have been wafted under my nose by three different bosses in this company, because I am apparently very good. I’m tired of waiting for it–some of my friends have already been promoted not even six months in their jobs or have already had their salaries increased. I’ve none but empty words and a low paycheck. If I’m going to be miserable and poor, at least let it be because I’m doing something worthwhile, or chasing after my dream, or something. As it’s neither of those cases–I really can’t see a reason to stay.

So, here I am. I want to get back to writing again. To writing seriously again–God knows my English skills have probably deteriorated by a huge margin since I can understand our Communications Associate now. I didn’t use to [understand him], since he doesn’t use articles and prepositions, does not know that ‘an’ is used for words with vowel sounding consonants, forms sentences with questions, starts sentences with ‘you gonna’, and so on, but now I understand what he says and it makes me shudder to realize that.

So I guess I should thank him. My irritation for his grammar, the way I’m appalled that the company hired him as a Communications Associate knowing this, the overwork because of his projects, and the low salary from this ultimately made me realize that no, I am not  happy here and I can and deserve to do better.

I made this blog to keep track of my goal/s. I know it’s going to be a tough and distracting road ahead.

So as I begin, I should tell myself to keep my eyes on the goal. And to do that, I should start writing again. At least a hundred words [not of the e-mail sort that I regularly do at work nor the fangirl sort] a day.

Onwards.

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One thought on “’til I try, I’ll never know.”

  1. Pingback: inmidnights

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