Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Look Back in Languor

A couple of months ago, I did a little review of my working life to date. It’s on here somewhere. Feel free to search the archives for it.

At the time, I refrained from passing judgement on my current job, because I needed to give it a fair shot before coming to any valid conclusions.

I’m five months into this job now. And I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time this week thinking about this job. Time to get it all out of my system.

Here’s my disclaimer in the spirit of fairness: It’s not the worst job I’ve ever had. Not even close. It’s not the worst paid. I’ve been treated far worse elsewhere. I’ve been subjected to degradation and disrespect in other places, but not here. It’s Not a Bad Job.

But…

It is, without a doubt, the most Boring job I’ve ever had. Eight hours a day filled with about 15 minutes of work, every day. Nothing To Do. Ever.

Lots of ways to look at this. First up: Surely this role must be at risk. There is only so long I can get away with being paid for doing nothing. At some point, they will wonder what they need me for, and throw me out of the building.

Secondly: Damn, it makes me restless. I like to be kept busy. I like to honestly earn my paycheque. I like to go home tired for a reason. At the moment, I’m battling insomnia every night because I’ve not managed to mentally or physically exhaust myself. And bear in mind my “other life” in film journalism and my three-month old daughter still can’t tire me out.

And lastly: What the fuck am I doing here? Other than some cash once a month, and an easy life, I’m not getting anything out of this place. Not learning anything. Not enjoying myself. Getting frustrated. So…

Here’s where I’m at now. Polishing up my outdated CV to get myself back into some kind of rhythm to shatter this horrible inertia. Looking to steer my unruly career back onto some kind of editorial track, and away from the mind-deadening world of I.T. I’ve always been more comfortable with slang and communication than servers and computers. Give me aggressive invective over artificial intelligence any day.

And here’s the bonus. Unlike last summer, when my state of mind was “Give me a job. Any job, I don’t care”, this time, I have no sense of urgency forcing my hand. I can be more selective and wait for the right job to hover into my line of sight. So, let’s see what happens next.

Also: I can’t be the only person who thinks Jackie Stallone looks like a lump of melted cheese that’s gone ten rounds with Apollo Creed, sprinkled with a thin layer of glitter.

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