![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
May. 10th, 2007 09:22 pmI'm writing this down to remember why I WILL one day soon quit my job and find something else. I don't know what, but 24 is the perfect time to do what I have to do to find out.
After a brief visit home for various reasons yesterday, the first thing Brandon asked me when I came back is, "How's your mom?"
My mom. My amazing mother, who gave up her career to have me and my brother, who started her life over again twice (once in a new country with a different language), who wasn't ever afraid of anything is worried. About her job; her house, which has accrued a property tax bill she can no longer afford; my brother, who loves his girlfriend and is losing her to a job in Orlando soon; her (second) idiot ex-husband, who will never grow up and quite probably destroy himself in the process; being alone for the rest of her life.
My mother, who deserves every happiness and has had so little of it, is worried that, at age 50, she's done everything she's going to do.
There are a lot of things she never got a chance at, and I feel guilty that a large chunk of that was because of her having kids, then caring more about them more than herself by bringing us to the States. And I don't want that sacrifice to be wasted by settling for things in my own life.
I don't want to regret not doing something. I've got journalism, it's in my back pocket, but it's not what I want. At least not here. And continuing to stay here is doing a disservice to everyone involved, the job and Polk County.
It has its perks: decent pay, Brandon and I work together, health insurance. But what I want out of my job is something that is inherently in conflict with beat journalism - you make choices about what you cover, how long you follow a story, and there's never enough time for either. The job is also by nature passive - journalists are observers, and I don't do well on the sidelines if I care about something.
Oh, and I hate Lakeland, management is narrow-minded and ignores problems, my bosses are overworked without any opportunity for training, the hours make socializing impossible, and so on. The only problem with the unhappiness I feel is it comes in waves, and sometimes I believe it will disappear on its own somehow. But it's the things that would take - a mortgage, a kid, for the journalism market to tank any further - that will eventually tip the scale, because I don't want a house somewhere I hate, I can barely take care of myself let alone another human being, and if it comes to it I can start all over in another career or go back to school rather than be stuck doing this. Yes. That's what I need to remember.
After a brief visit home for various reasons yesterday, the first thing Brandon asked me when I came back is, "How's your mom?"
My mom. My amazing mother, who gave up her career to have me and my brother, who started her life over again twice (once in a new country with a different language), who wasn't ever afraid of anything is worried. About her job; her house, which has accrued a property tax bill she can no longer afford; my brother, who loves his girlfriend and is losing her to a job in Orlando soon; her (second) idiot ex-husband, who will never grow up and quite probably destroy himself in the process; being alone for the rest of her life.
My mother, who deserves every happiness and has had so little of it, is worried that, at age 50, she's done everything she's going to do.
There are a lot of things she never got a chance at, and I feel guilty that a large chunk of that was because of her having kids, then caring more about them more than herself by bringing us to the States. And I don't want that sacrifice to be wasted by settling for things in my own life.
I don't want to regret not doing something. I've got journalism, it's in my back pocket, but it's not what I want. At least not here. And continuing to stay here is doing a disservice to everyone involved, the job and Polk County.
It has its perks: decent pay, Brandon and I work together, health insurance. But what I want out of my job is something that is inherently in conflict with beat journalism - you make choices about what you cover, how long you follow a story, and there's never enough time for either. The job is also by nature passive - journalists are observers, and I don't do well on the sidelines if I care about something.
Oh, and I hate Lakeland, management is narrow-minded and ignores problems, my bosses are overworked without any opportunity for training, the hours make socializing impossible, and so on. The only problem with the unhappiness I feel is it comes in waves, and sometimes I believe it will disappear on its own somehow. But it's the things that would take - a mortgage, a kid, for the journalism market to tank any further - that will eventually tip the scale, because I don't want a house somewhere I hate, I can barely take care of myself let alone another human being, and if it comes to it I can start all over in another career or go back to school rather than be stuck doing this. Yes. That's what I need to remember.
