So I had a job interview.
I had a second interview for the same job. This is a good sign.
It is a sales position. I’m not normally enthusiastic about sales positions. I’m not generally suited for aggressive sales. That kind of high energy persuasion wears me out quickly.
But the nature of this job is such that it is not that aggressive kind of sale. Sure, there’s always competition. Sure, there’s always pressure to produce and perform. But the leads are given to you, the product is necessary (Medicare), and the timing is ideal (open enrollment period.)
If I get this job I will start training in July. If I perform below expectations, I still stand to make more money by the end of the year than I have in any one year in my entire life. If I perform exceptionally well, I can be earning a six figure income.
I’ve done restaurants my whole life. I’ve never made more than $31,000 in a single year. And that is despite several years of management experience.
This is why I’m looking to get out of my familiar industry.
A very talented and valuable team member at work left us today. She was offered a retain job selling household softlines. She will make more than I do an hour. Given, she will probably get less hours than I do in a week, and hence probably make less money per paycheck. That’s how they got you. But a nineteen-year-old girl will be making more money at an entry level retail position than a restaurant manager with 14 years experience.
But this isn’t a complaint about capitalism or the job market. This is about me feeling undervalued. As a person. As an artist. As a magician.
This is about me being in my mid-thirties and having few to none major accomplishments I can brag about. This is about me having loads of untapped potential and not doing anything with it because of exhaustion and apathy. This is about me being frustrated with people who have the luxury to follow their dreams and do what they want lecture me about how I need to just follow my bliss and everything will come together.
It’s easy to follow your bliss when you’re married to a middle class white computer programmer who brings in $120,000 a year, isn’t it? just to what brings you fulfillment! Quit that crappy job and follow your dreams, says the person who has a job so she won’t get bored raising those kids by herself.
I’m frustrated. I want to write. I want nothing more but to sit and write stuff. Blogs, articles, books, screenplays, you name it. I want to create. But I’m so tired I have no motivation to do so. I get apathetic. So I know what I want. So I know I’ll be good at it. It doesn’t matter much when I’ve just worked a 16 hour day and I just want to zone out for a few hours instead of doing anything as involved as creating.
I’ll just mine some iron and gold instead. It’ll let me build that cool machine that turns string into obsidian. I saw it on a Youtube video.
But I need to write. And I’m not doing it enough. So I end up getting drunk off Cap’n Morgan and writing a rambling stream-of-consciousness blog post about how I’m not writing enough. I fucking hate stream-of-consciousness.
I’m going somewhere with this. Stay with me.
I do not like to step outside of my comfort zones.
I know, I know. I am the worst chaos magician ever.
The irony is that I seek novelty. I desire to learn and experience new things. But I want a certain reliability in life. I want certainty and control. So I want to experience new things, but on my terms, and once I’m certain that basic obligations are met.
So I still work in the same industry I did twenty years ago. I still hold the same position I did when I was 19. And I’m just scraping by.
The grind is getting me. I’m scraping by. I’m lonely and I’m not flourishing. And I’m close enough to the bottom that I recognize that even having the time to ponder this and the audience to vent to is a major luxury that is afforded to the few and privileged.
Really, I’m not doing so bad. I’ve got a nice place, and I eat well, and I have friends and readily available entertainment.
So I’ll risk the hubris and say it outright: I feel like I was meant for greatness. And I have not achieved greatness, Yet.
If I am to become the person I feel I am meant to be, and do the things I want to do, there must be major changes in my life. I have been building toward this gradually, but it needs to accelerate, It needs to defy Mars and Saturn retrograde.
I am a creature of inertia, and I must put forth a great effort, because a major change is needed.
I did a tarot reading about this job interview. The Tower came up.
Changes have been set in motion. I can go with them or resist them, the latter to my detriment.
It’s time to shut up and wizard. It’s time to do what I want to do. It’s time to cast off the mediocre. It’s time to take the initiative and structure my life the way I want it. It’s time to quit flirting and take that girl to bed. It’s time to put pen to paper and get published. It’s time to close the sale.
I’m not sure who I’ll be when I’m done with this. I’m not sure I care anymore, because I’m tired of enduring as I’ve been.
My problem is that I’m motivated by either love or anger. Stagnation fosters neither, I have to learn how to do it differently, because the way I’ve been doing it isn’t working anymore. I’ve been pitching the sale for too long. I need to close it and cash the check.
I’ve been building toward a critical mass, and this job will push me over the edge. It will force me to shift my comfort zone. It will force me to engage life and people differently, This is what I need.
Just waiting for that call back.