Everyday, I get up, get dressed and go to work. Well, Monday through Fridays. I have been at my current job for almost 3 years now. I think being a contractor had me spoiled. My brother has worked for his company for 22 years, I think is his number. Twenty-two years! By year 2.5, I’m usually having anxiety. I am having anxiety now. I need to move to another office and work or something. I need to see something different. I keep asking God, “Lord is this it? Please don’t let this be it.”
I suffer from Wanderlust.
I found a perfect job in Los Angeles. I am dying to move to California. Simultaneously, I want to stay in Boston, too. My homeboy said, “…you can do this job and you need to. Go for it. I’ll meet you out there in about 6-months.” I didn’t apply. Maybe I should see if the requisition is still available. Have a reached the point of being scared to start over? I really want to start over… I think.
As a black girl from the city, working in Financial Services will break you down.
And what did you make of him?
Kind of cool. I always say, cooler than most politicians, not as cool as actual cool people. He’s not cool like Jay Z’s cool. He’s not Eddie Murphy. But in a world of politicians …
I struggle defining myself. Who am I? I am so many things. I have so many personalities. I have so many values and many of them rest on opposite ends of the spectrum. I look at couples, happy ones, and I wonder if I could be happy with what they appear to have. The need to have is a constant conversation in my mind. I don’t need the flyest car, I don’t need the designer bags, or any of that. I need the good zip code. The best educational system. The prettier playgrounds. The best terrain for a neighborhood jog. Could I be happy being a normal, working-class, couple? Person?
I really don’t know. There is a concept of building WITH someone. Look at David and Victoria Beckham. There has to be that belief in someone. Problem? I think motherhood is going to really change me. I want to be able to depend on a man to drive this ship if that happens. This is major for me. To know me is to understand how much I over-think, over-analyze, how control freakish I am. I am into details. I am the planner friend. I am obsessive. It is completely exhausting. I am her.
I love being a Roxbury Girl who went to public school but had the grades to go to private, upper echelon. Do you know that I always wanted to work for my company? I’d been offered my post-grad job with State Street and made my school look good though they had NO HAND in the process at all. (It’s still eff them.) A friend of mine was interning at my current company. I’d never heard of them, but oh when I Googled:
Damn, it must be hard as hell to get in there.
She’s bomb for working there. She’s going places.
Her GPA was astronomical. She is the quintessential Type A. She lived it, seriously and it never ceased to impress me. she’s younger than I. She doesn’t even know it. I just really thought she was the sh*t for how hard she worked. She was also a brown girl. To aim that high, and have offers from State Street and my now company, as a junior? Yo go girl!
Here I am 7.5 years later. I did it. I have a company bucket list. I don’t even need to be a manager there. I just want to be able to survive the culture. I want to prove to myself that this little brown girl, from a working class family can sit at the table. That is a major part of who I am. I hate the politics of financial services. I hate the inferiority complex that comes with working in this industry. I hate to witness entitlement. It’s frustrating to be a girl in a Boys Club. I guess that I take comfort in knowing that white people that do not come from money and/or are not a legacy feel alienated to a degree too and women in general feel the same, not just minority, and lastly, this was never supposed to be forever.
This game will change you.
There are pieces of my personality that come from working in this industry. I think it’s the ruthlessness. I am no where near as much of a shark as I once wanted to me. I wanted to be a shark at a point in my life. I think that was me trying to thrive in Rome. I remember my AOL away message being, “You didn’t know sharks could smile, did you?” I’m positive there is a blog in the universe about that, authored by me. I wince thinking about it. I am not 21 anymore. I’m thinking about what kind of woman I will be to my future husband. What type of mother I will be for my children. My life has always been for my legacy, I just carved a few pieces of fun out for myself. This life was never about me. I wanted to be able to assist my mother in enjoying retirement and position my children to be able to compete at a global level. That’s was the major piece of what mattered before and all that matters now.
This morning, I wondered if I’d have gone to boarding school for high school, how different my life would have been. My mother told me that there was ONE Boston Public high school that she would accept but it was out of my district. I needed to be in an exam school or a private school and if I went private, I needed to go free. Okay. No problem. I made them both options. (She had to be proud, I really was the sh*t as a child.) What if I chose a different college? What if I never worked in financial services. What if I stayed in Toronto? The decision to move back home for love was so major and I wonder if that set off a spiral of events in my life that I have yet to recover from. I wonder what the recovery is.
I believe in fate.
Something strange is happening in my life and I am trying to let God engineer and not obsess about it, but it’s really stressing me out. My personality is changing so much. I feel like I am going through a mean stage (again). Maybe not “mean”, but less tolerant. I want you to walk away and not speaking to me if you’re not of substance. I don’t want to argue. I want to debate on issues that affect society or not at all. You know? My soul feels old. My spirit is anxious for what is next. What am I about to become? Maybe the Birthday Blues has arrived early. It usually arrives around February. I am always moody in the fall, though.
I just know that I don’t want this to be it for me. My personality is too large. I have too much to offer for this to be all life has for me. What is next? Am I supposed to be the girl that quits her job and steps out on faith? I am too much of a planner for that. So what happens next?
I just need a signal of what is to come… because lord this cannot be it.