It’s Over Meow

This post is about the worst — and best — job I’ve ever had.

Two thousand, three hundred and twenty-two days is a long time for anything. According to snarky non-millennials on Twitter, that’s an eternity for a millennial to keep a job for. Apparently we’re a generation prone to job hopping, despite the data proving out otherwise. Yet the perception still remains.

For me, however, those 2,322 days is a long time. It’s six years, four months, and ten days, which is…

  • Longer than every relationship I’ve had save for one
  • Nearly double the amount of time I spent on my undergrad and graduate degrees combined
  • Almost three years longer than the next longest job tenure I’ve had…and…
  • Just under four years longer than the next longest full-time job tenure I’ve had

To me, it was an eternity. I don’t mean that as a bad thing either. It was just a really long time to be in the same place.

In October 2011, I was in the first group of people let go in the few months before my then-employer closed its doors. I applied to tens of jobs daily. I didn’t care what kind of job I got. I just wanted to pay my rent and my student loans. In what was a short, but frustrating, job search, I went on somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty interviews before landing a job as a temp1I was on a 90-day contract. This period is one of the most frustrating parts of my employment ever, as my now-former employer refused to count it toward my job tenure, despite the fact that I was doing work for them (not to mention being promoted nearly as soon as the temp period ended). doing front-line customer service and data entry for a technology company. It was a long, though not unmanageable, drive for low, though not terribly low2This statement is mostly reflective of my temp period, however it did three promotions to get back to the pay I was making at my previous employer., pay. But it was a job, which was exactly what I needed.

Over time, my role evolved from being a customer service professional into a trainer, manager, and instructional designer (depending on when we’re talking about). I helped bring on numerous folks into our local office, watched many people — both locally and remote — grow and develop thanks to training programs I designed, and proudly saw numerous folks I helped mentor move up into positions within the company with more responsibility and visibility. For the first four years or so I was there, I genuinely enjoyed my job. I could comfortably say it was the best job I’ve ever had.

There were three main reasons the best job I ever had became the worst job I ever had. The two reasons that I felt the most regularly weren’t even the most major reason to occur3We’ll get to that one in a minute.. It started with being overworked. While there was never anything formal said about this, it felt at times like there was an unwritten expectation that if you were a salaried employee, you should work from home throughout the week in addition to your time on the clock. Though I’m sure the thought process behind this was “in case of emergency only”, I’ve always subscribed to the theory that if there’s still work to be done, you keep working on it. As a result, most of my six years with the company featured my forty hour weeks looking much more like fifty, sixty, or (in rare cases) eighty hour weeks. Though this did improve slightly in my last two years with the company, by the start of year four, I was getting burnt out.

In addition to getting burnt out, I often felt like I wasn’t getting the recognition I deserved for doing my job well. And I was doing my job very well, as I always graded out in the highest grade for my position. But I didn’t want more money. Don’t get me wrong, getting a raise, a bonus, or some kind of additional stipend is wonderful and exceptionally helpful. But when you’re a one person department for four years, the best way to show that department that they’re doing a great job is to help them grow. It was a promise I heard year after year. It’s also a promise that never came. Couple that with the fact that I had to watch someone else get honored for projects I created, designed, and (in many cases) ran, and I felt like my work didn’t matter.

All of those things were bad enough by themselves. Then, a year after the company I worked for was bought, we got told our office was shutting down.

While the employees in our office were (mostly) given a good bit of time to search for a new job while keeping their current one4This was incredibly kind of our new parent company. The fact that they kept telling us how generous it was of them that they were doing this felt like a mocking statement, however., it still felt like the end of something special. Our main office closed down in October of last year, causing most of the remaining employees to move to a temporary office space. I was one of the last people in the building at the main office, allowing me to sneak upstairs to where I had started my career as a temp in early 2012.

Though my off-centered picture was necessitated by boxes that had been moved upstairs late that afternoon, it was a surreal moment to see the place I’d been to every day for (then) almost six years so empty. My very first desk was the one directly across from the empty desk on the left5Not the one with the chair. The one further back as if you’re moving away from the camera.. My last one (in this building) was a closet-like office where I could hear every toilet flush in the building thanks to the pipes running through the wall in front of me. It felt somewhat like leaving a home I actually liked, even if I no longer enjoyed the job itself.

Between October of last year and April of this year, the vast majority of people left the office. Some left because they found a new job. Others were there until their company-designated last day. But by the second week of April, I was able to take a similar picture of our new space, though with much crappier sight-lines due to five-foot-tall cubicle walls.

I had to stand on top of a desk to take that picture. It was a lot more work by the end…both to take that second picture and to come to work each day.

In six years, between a few moves my wife and I made as well as the temporary office move, my commute length had more than doubled. I had lost the boss who I truly feel was the best boss I ever had. The team that I had developed, nurtured, and watched grow, was mostly gone from the company6A small number of them were fortunate enough to be able to relocate to Chicago for new jobs there.. Meanwhile, I found myself sitting in my car crying against my steering wheel at 7 in the morning most days because I didn’t want to go in. It was, by that point, the worst job I’d ever had.

I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that the job was either the best or worst I’ve had. At times, it was both. There were even days where it felt like both of those things at various points in the same day. But it was time for a change. My mind needed it more than anything else (as evidenced from my post a couple of weeks ago).

I would love to say I left when there was no more work left to do, in keeping with my own mantra. That definitely wasn’t the case. There’s more work to do than ever. But I left when I reached the point where there was nothing left I could do while also remaining sane.

Despite that feeling, I can also recognize that I grew so much while I was there. I kept up with a job that felt like constant pressure for more than six years. I made some friends and got to watch some people grow into exceptional employees and people. It was just time to turn off the lights and leave.

On Workaholism

Hi. My name is Tim((Hi Tim!)) and I am a workaholic.

I’d like to lead off by saying that in general, I am a person who is very aware of what I am good at and what I am not good at. I am very good at online geography quizzes, making Excel do exactly what I want it to, turn-based strategy games, and snarking at whatever happens to be on television at a given moment. I’m very bad at telling who people are just by looking at their faces, singing((Outside of a very, very small range of songs.)), keeping my opinion to myself, and making grilled cheese. This trait also applies to my work experience and the skills/traits related to various jobs I’ve held. I’m very good at calming people down, creative thinking, and designing properly scaffolded courses within a curriculum. I’m very bad at sales, business politics, and having any semblance of work-life balance.

That last item — work-life balance — is of particular note for a few reasons. First and foremost, while it is a factor that has become very obvious to me at my current job, this job is not the first job I’ve had this happen with. When I was in high school, I lived so close to the pizza shop I worked at that I could walk there in under five minutes. Despite the limitations placed on workers under 18 in the state of Ohio, I tried to work as much as I possibly could. In my mind, it made sense, as I was paying for my own gas, car insurance, school supplies, school fees, and pre-paid cell phone at the age of 16((I was paying for all of those except gas and insurance at 15, though if 15 year olds could drive, I likely would have been paying for things then.)). There were a number of things my family couldn’t afford, so why shouldn’t I be trying to bank as much money for myself as possible?

Fast forward to adulthood. I’m nearly ten years out of high school, married, and in a significantly better financial position than I was when I wasn’t the person providing for me. I’m managed to put myself in a pretty good position now and in an even better position for where I’ll be long-term.

I’m also tired, stressed, and jaded.

I had a rough week recently. On the Sunday of that week, I spent the better part of nine hours working on various items for work. It was a very productive Sunday((Even outside of the work stuff I completed, I wrote a blog post, got groceries, did dishes, and took out the trash.)), but one that left me rather drained when I went to bed. Monday was a frustrating day at work which left me in tears on multiple occasions at home. Following a rather large fight with my wife, I mentally vowed to do something about my stress level — though with no idea what at the time. Tuesday was just as frustrating as Monday, if not more so. At the end of the day, I left work without my computer.

This is a huge step for me for various reasons, both work-related and not. My personal computer is very, very slow. I’m currently writing this post on said computer, which has a brand new install of Windows 10 and is running Chrome with two tabs open((Neither of which are data-intensive: WordPress and Reddit.)) and nothing else. My computer is lagging about three words behind me as I type. As a result, I tend to use my work computer far more frequently than I would in other situations. But with using the work computer for personal use comes doing work more often. Excluding the week before my wedding and the time I was gone on my honeymoon, I’ve worked from home at least 4 nights a week (typically more) every week since October of 2014. It’s left me in a position where the emotions I listed above — tired, stressed, and jaded — only hit the tip of the iceburg of my fatigue. Even worse, because my job is often times writing-intensive, it leaves me not wanting to blog (or reusing old posts from my old blog).

I ended up leaving my computer at work two more times that week. I’m trying to make an effort now to not bring it home other than on weekends (or if I need to because my computer won’t load a website I need, which has sadly happened multiple times recently, though still less often than when I was running Windows 8). It’s a small step…and admittedly it’s one that’s difficult to make. I don’t want to live my future like I lived my past. I don’t want my adulthood to be dictated by stress, poverty, anger, frustration, or any combination therein. And as such, I need to learn to strike a balance to keep my sanity. Otherwise, I won’t have a future to dictate.