There. I said it.
I find myself extremely green in sight of other’s promotions, marriage proposals, new cribs. I am Miss Salty. The latter? I can hold off on, but a new job? I’m reeling in envy. I’ve been applying for a new job consistently, persistently, desperately, for about a year now. Ok. The pandemic threw a wrench in that gear, but come on now! I was declined thricefold by this company I happen to be employed by. I even got declined for a part time position at Barnes and Noble! Umm. The ultimate betrayal. One, because I would love to be surrounded by books all day and two, because what the fudge?
Anyway, my mentor told me it’s because I need to build a network of “people who will promote my brand.” Eh. That’s cute. If it ain’t an aunt or a friend of a friend that knows someone, that’s hard to come by. Also, let’s not talk about the obvious racial and gender-based salary gaps in the industry I’m trying to enter. Take a wild guess. Then there’s the people who bellow “be an entrepreneur!” or “start your nail business” and all that jazz, but guess what? You need capital. You need genuine support and not the “yeah girl, I’ll be there!” or “I’m definitely gonna buy from you!” or “We in there!”. Result: Crickets. A million crickets. I would love to risk it all and write full-time, start a YouTube channel, or be a shower routine Tik-Toker because I like soap, but life be lifing and I’m scared. I’m a stickler for stability. I can’t do too much freedom which is funny because I yearn for it!
Like, can I just win the damn lottery?
I’ll take a million and have it stretch for the rest of my existence.
I just need out of this plague called a job. I need a career that balances stability and creativity. Hell, I just need work/life balance! Being a creative is hard work and it can be rewarding, but it’s the uncertainty of bucks that discourages me. Also, the lack of knowledge in being a full time creative, influencer, artist, whatever title you prefer.
Totally my fault, but I’m also jealous of those who invest or have a bomb ass savings. It’s not good to lament but I should’ve had a better savings for someone who didnt start paying rent until two years ago. G*d bless Grandmothers who let you live with them for a decade but badger you to get out the entire time. *rolls eyes* She’ll probably capsize if she knew what was in my savings. Leave my little dollars alone, Granny!
The application declines and/or no replies are piling up and I need to really figure out what I am doing or honestly, what is it that I am striving for. Plus, I’m thirty years old as of August 18. I do not have time for mediocrity and being stuck in this position forever! I know. I know. Age is not to be considered a life marker in which certain goals are to be met, but um, who’s trying to live an unfulfilled life beyond thirty? Aren’t these the fun years? Or is that forty?
Hey. Should I do a reflection post on my twenties? Too late? Nah. It’s never too late. I was just there. *smirks*
Til the cash, coin, and lottery check flies,
Ella.
p.s. Someone’s helping out from another location today and upon learning that I finished graduate school, he replies, looking from one end of the office to the other, “It’s time.” No shit, Sherlock. I gazed out into the lobby and then to the sun outside.
The Daily Ella 