Move Out and Get a Job. Really. It's Time.

I'm not sure really why this seems particularly relevant today, but it's something that I've felt like writing about for a while. Be aware: you very well might be offended by this post. But, that said, if you are, it might be time to wake up and smell the coffee. This is reality, baby. And it aint necessarily pleasant.

It's often been said that my generation, the kids who grew up in the late eighties and nineties, are used to having everything given to them. I'm talking the kids who woke up to watch Care Bears and Inspector Gadget and played with Teddy Ruxpin and baked Creepy Crawlers. You know who you are. Not only that, but you know that a lot of you (NOT all, by any means, but a LOT, myself included) were given most things without having to work too hard for them. For example, we were always told we were winners, that we were superstars in most of our endeavors. And we were used to having things our way. It's known that people of my generation, more than those of any other, are considered whiners and people who complain when things don't go exactly their way. Experts attribute this attitude to the encouragement we received from adults, like all the trophies we all got playing sports, even when we scored in the wrong goal or had hissy-fits on the field.

In May, The New York Times published an article called "The Why-Worry Generation" by Judith Warner. (I hope it's clear that I'm just referring back to this and not that many months behind in my reading!) Honestly, I wish I could say the author's wrong in the way she portrayed us. She isn't. Overall, we are "entitled whiners who have been spoiled by parents who overtsoked [our] self-esteem, teachers who granted undeserved A's and sports coaches who bestowed trophies on any player who showed up." On the whole, we don't accept jobs that we don't consider "perfect" or "ideal," with the hours we want and the exact pay we have always expected. We tend to think our resumes are perfect, our credentials better than average and our performance stellar-- even when it's not.

Warner notes that perhaps people of my generation wait around for seemingly perfect opportunities because of their optimism, a trait usually considered positive. In this case, though, I'd argue that optimism to that degree is negative, too idealistic and, quite honestly, unrealistic. What happens when a person is so sure they'll get a great job that they're willing to wait around, not earning a living, for months (or, god forbid, years) on end?

Maybe some people call it optimism, but I call it "a cover-up for disgusting behavior." I think back to people of our parents', grandparents' and great-grandparents' generations. Did they sit home, living off of their parents' income, waiting for a job that they considered just right? Or did they take whatever job they could get, happy to be earning a living, grateful for their income which allowed for their independence?

All in all, I have to say that I'm horrified by many kids my age. There are exceptions to any rule, and I certainly understand that there are times when it's OK to be living with your parents or not earning money; daunting amounts of debt from education, illness, a tragic life crisis are all examples. But, what about the kids who are just plain lazy? The ones who turn down jobs because they're not exactly what they want? The ones who don't even bother to search for jobs in the first place because they'd rather live off of their parents until that dream position lands in their lap-- magically?

Now I'm not saying I make a lot of money (because I don't) or that I'm never the one complaining about having to go to work (because I am. Often.) But I was fortunate enough to be GIVEN an education, something I'm eternally grateful for. I'm capable of getting up to go to work every day, and so I do it-- six days per week. As a result, I'm able to pay my own rent each month, all of my bills and for all other things, both necessities and luxuries. (Sometimes, that weekly manicure or decadent sushi dinners are necessary... I think.) And you know what? It sure feels good to be independent. (I mean, don't we all want our parents to have zero hold on us? Or do we want them controlling our every move?)

So, to the people my age who don't work, don't pay their own rent or their own bills, I know it's not my business. It's not. Really. But it still annoys me and, on top of that, makes our entire generation look bad-- especially those of us who really do take care of themselves. We're not entitled to special treatment, no matter how much money our families earned and accumulated in generations past. It's not our god-given right to live off of unemployment and, really, shouldn't even be allowed unless we absolutely cannot find work. Beyond that, even if our parents are willing to give, give, give, it's NOT their responsibility. Let them enjoy their money, without having to support us. Did you ever think that maybe they have better things to use their income on than your dinners out and your expensive haircuts?

Think about it for a minute. Or an hour. Stop being lazy, Millennials. Try to do something for yourself, and then maybe even our society. Don't make hardworking people like your family members or me provide (directly or indirectly) for you. Be brave and learn how to write a rent check, pay the cable bill and grocery shop. It'll be worth it in the end. Trust me.

WHY I DON'T WANT TO RELY ON A MAN TO SUPPORT ME.

I’ve got a problem. I’ve become a feminist. I’ve never been a feminist before and, quite honestly, I’m not really sure what to make of it or how to deal with it. Before you go off thinking that I’m about to be burning my bra and protesting the male race, hear me out.

It recently occurred to me that I value my education, acquired skills and the mere fact that I have a job and an income. At this point in life there are very few things that are worth more to me than being able to support myself financially, pay my own bills and, as a result, not have to answer to anyone or anything besides myself. Maybe that’s being selfish, not feminist, but I personally still think it’s a little bit more feministy than I’ve ever been in the past.

I have to take a step back and wonder why this whole overarching “job” and “career” and “financial stability” concept is so important to me right now. Why this second? Why do I care?

First off, I realize that at some points during my educational career I worked hard for my grades. Sure, in college I slacked off plenty, but just being in college (physically) was work on its own-- both emotionally and academically. But moreso emotionally. (Hey, it’s tough to learn how to share a living space with conniving girls or to deal with that best friend whose idea of a good time is to get wasted and then destroy property!) Second, I realize that I’m goddamned lucky to have a job during these years that are so difficult financially for most Americans.

After considering these two things, I then think about so many girls my age whose only wish (whether or not they have yet fulfilled it) is to get married and have babies. Now, I’m not about to argue that either of those are bad things in themselves, but I will defend my opinion to the death that there is a proper time and place for these things to happen in our lives. Just as much as it wouldn’t have been appropriate to pop out a few kids in high school, it wouldn’t be the ideal time in my life now, either. I’m 23 and baby, I’ve got this decade to live without the hassel of raising my own family. I need to raise MYSELF before I can be responsible for anyone else. I just envision myself encouraging a child to make their bed or maintain a healthy diet when I don’t yet do it myself. Those alone provide an instant reminder that I’m not ready.

I also have decided that if I were, in theory, to just quit my job to get married and have kids, it would demonstrate a complete lack of ambition. Don’t get me wrong, I understand how challenging it is to raise a kid and maintain a household even without a job. As Oprah says, being a mom is the hardest job in the world. But if I were to marry someone in order to have kids right now for any other purpose other than for love, it would not only be not only unfair to the guy, but really unfair to myself. Why shouldn’t I be in a position to strive to improve upon or advance in my career? Do I really want to have to trust one person’s dealings at work to ensure my own monetary stability? Why should he have to do all of the work outside the house to support me when I have a perfectly worthy college degree?

All in all, it comes down to one thing: I don’t want to be lazy. I’d like to think that I have more personality, education and intelligence than to just give up my outside world to rely on some husband’s paychecks so I can clean toilets and do laundry all day. There is absolutely no reason for me to resign myself to a life at home watching soaps while the baby sleeps. It’s early enough in time that I can still prove myself as my own person out there in the working world while saving time in the future to both have a family and a career.

Besides, the workplace is often the best place for me to get story ideas. And we all know I wouldn’t get to maintain this blog, one of my favorite things to write, if I didn’t have interesting stories. I’d rather be writing from my Cloroxed cubicle than from a rocking chair as a baby spits up on me, thank you very much.

Rude and at Work

Most of us at some point or another either go to work or have gone to work or, if we’re lucky enough to still be living the high life in college (literally or figuratively) we will in the future. Well, of course, if America gets its act together and makes jobs for all of us. Point is, jobs and careers are generally a reality. We all need to pay the bills somehow or another; whether it’s by marrying the ugliest wealthy slime-ball around or because we mooch off of mom and dad while living in their basement when we’re forty years old, we all rely on money to make life livable.

Most of us prefer though to just go to work, earn our own money and count on ourselves. Obviously that statement doesn’t include everyone, but I’m 99% positive that a majority of people in this country go to work because they have to. Sure, some of us like what we do. I’m not going to tell you that I dislike my job (because I don’t) or that I hate all of my daily tasks (again, because I don’t). But, given the choice to sit here in my cubicle or go out and take a walk along the river on this gorgeous day, I’d have to admit that I’d rather take the walk. Work isn’t for fun. Rather, it’s a means of filling my days. It keeps my mind active and allows me to pay rent. My earned paycheck even pays my cable bill-- one that manages to be exceptionally expensive even though I don’t even watch porn-- and for both necessary and unneeded clothing, a costly gym membership and even charitable gifts.

Likewise, most of my colleagues are in this position. They’re not crunching numbers, writing grants and scheduling meetings for their own pleasure. They do it so they don’t have to live with their parents, so they can support their own kids. My coworkers work so they can pay for their own movie tickets and cruises, for manicures and for that pair of jeans they just need to have. Oh and they also need to pay for their necessities, like food and rent. Minor detail though.

Yes, work is enjoyable when we get to eat gourmet meals charged to the company. It's also nice when we get perks like gym memberships and free personal training sessions. Whatever the reason we work though, we all know that we’re here on a daily basis more out of necessity than for pleasure.

Since we’re all in the same boat (or, on the same floor is perhaps more like it), don’t you think we’d respect each other? Since I really am not having fun submitting that grant application to the National Institute of Health, and because I can guess that the lady across the hall isn’t either, don’t you think we’d both suck it up and get the job done with smiles on our faces? Wouldn’t you think that she’d spare me from making the task more difficult than it already is by speaking to me kindly, rather than making it worse?

By talking with colleagues, friends and family members, I’ve learned that there’s this covert office culture in many places where being rude is acceptable and sometimes not even discussed. Do you not like what someone had to say in that email they sent you? No problem. Just shoot them one right back using all capital letters, just in case your angry words alone didn’t get the message across. Don’t want to be cordial with that girl who sits across from you? Again, no problem. Sneak into your coworker’s office when you want to talk and make it known that you’re closing the door to gossip. Definitely do it when the girl you dislike is the only one in the office though-- just so she knows that you’re purposely trying to exclude her. Oh and you say you don’t like how someone ran a meeting? Once again, not a problem. Just make it known to everyone but the leader directly that you think you’re boss and that they’re just a little person whose voice doesn’t deserve to be heard.

I constantly find myself shocked at not only how I’m occasionally treated by those around me, but also by how my friends in different jobs are spoken to and acted toward daily. I’m fortunate enough to work in a place where most of us like each other, where when our monthly pizza party rolls around we’re all excited to sit on the floor and get comfy talking and eating. But, a snarky email or rude voicemail unfortunately makes me forget all of the good things sometimes. As my boss recently explained it, one person with a bad attitude is like a dominant trait. That dominant trait overrides all others, so as to say that one negative person overrides the nice personalities of everyone else. (We work in a genetics lab.) When one person whips out the negativity, it catches on like wildfire and puts everyone in a bad mood. And, believe me, in an environment where you spend over forty hours per week, the last thing anyone would want would be more frowns and nasty emails and less laughter.

Before you touch-type some scathing email, please think about how your words might effect the recipient. I know it sounds like a kindergarten lesson, but it’s true. There's rarely a need to bring out the nastiness at work. How about we just act kindly toward each other until 5:00pm, just to make it easier on everyone? If you want to go ahead and release any negativity by beating up the treadmill or taking a boxing class, be my guest. But please leave both my inbox and feelings alone. I’m just trying to get through the day and earn a couple bucks, just like you. Yes, just like YOU.

And it all all works out in the end...

You might be wondering why I haven't posted in well over a month. Since my last post I have quit my first job out of college and been hired to work as an executive assistant to a doctor/scientist at a local hospital. It may sound silly, but this whole transition thing has drastically changed my daily attitude toward going to work and my notions of how people act in the workplace.

I like to think that not everyone knows how awful my last job was as a bilingual paralegal at a law firm. I sincerely hope that my opinions and complaints didn't permeate all of my social interactions. But, as can be imagined, those close to me definitely were aware of my unhappiness.

Here's what it breaks down to: I had a horrible boss for nine and a half months of my life. And when I say horrible, I mean disgusting, inappropriate, mean, nasty, you name it.

Micro-manager to the core, this man would eavesdrop on my phone conversations and correct the words out of my mouth, citing my tendency to be "too nice" and "too polite." He'd watch me go to the bathroom in disdain, as if how could I become unchained to my desk on his time? I'd arrive in the morning to answer the phone to his screaming voice-- how dare I include the subdivision of an insurance company when addressing an envelope? That's not the way the mailman wants to see it and certainly I was going to lead to the ultimate poverty of each and every one of his clients because the mail would not end up in the right place on their behalf.

Maybe I most enjoyed when he called my cell at 9:30pm on a Saturday, only to grill me about my caseload, or when he'd ring me just as I left the office, shrieking about my unacceptable behavior of forgetting to take a file out of the file cabinet. "Completely unacceptable," he'd say, "and it's going to be noted in your personnel file." Yes, my personnel file, the one that was so far buried under all of his disgusting mess that he wouldn't be able to find it for evidence if he decided to sue me for royally ruining his life.

Sometimes dealing with this irrational man even became funny. When he took his week long vacation to the Caribbean, he called me the first day at 4:15pm, right before our office closed.

"I want you to call me at 4:15 every day for the rest of the week," he explained. "You didn't do that today, but that's OK because I didn't tell you to."

Right. I forgot that I was supposed to develop mind reading skills in college.

Anyway, that's over and done with. I've moved on to a much better place, where I find myself surrounded by cheerful coworkers who invite me to happy hours and lunches. (It should be noted, however, that my former co-workers are amazing and we've stuck by each other through thick and thin-- love you both!) I have also learned to appreciate the subtle gestures in life: I smile internally every time my new boss politely requests my assistance and I appreciate each and every time he thanks me for my help. I'm no longer told "JUST DO WHAT I TELL YOU," but rather spoken to respectfully, as if I'm a real person.

When I think back on it, I realize that beyond learning a lesson in how to treat and manage your employees, I'm mainly happy that I got the last word:

One Monday, well aware that the evil presence in my life was waiting god-knows-where for his car to be towed, I decided to give him a call to announce my departure. He wanted, of course, to know why I made my decision, and I explained that it was because of his lack of any sort of common decency toward me.

"I really don't appreciate you saying things like 'You don't remember who this lawyer is? I should send you to go be a waitress so that you learn how to remember things!'"

It's like dude, I got a college degree, and from a much better school than you ever went to, so you can stop insulting my intelligence right now. K thanks.

Unsure of how to respond, he made some sort of sarcastic comment about how he hopes that I "have a nice life" but that I "have some growing up to do."

My response?

"I hope you treat the next person you hire better than you treat me."

I proceeded to clean my desk, being sure to discard of my thousand newly-printed and expensive business cards that he just had printed for me.

Karma's a bitch, aint it?

XOXO,
RC