Thursday, June 10, 2004

So I figured out the problem--the reason some of us feel...dissatisfied at work.
Financial Aid is kind of like Needles, CA. You don't really plan on ending up in it. You just do. It just happens to be on the side of the road to where you are going. There are places to eat, to get gas, etc. So you pull off, not really in knowing where you are. And you're okay there, as long as you don't stick around too long (no offense to anyone from Needles).
I remember when I was interviewing for my position, my boss told me, "Yeah, it's cool, as long as you don't stay for too long. Three years, maybe even four are alright. But after five, they own you." At this point he got this look on his face, like a prisoner who wants to tell you to get out while you can.
But you know what? For all the talk, it's not quite like he described it. He seemed, at the time, to think that he'd never get out. But when he got desperate, he found his courage and left the industry. He went into music full time, is working on a studio with a friend. He looked so happy the last time he came to visit, and I envied him for a moment, as you might envy someone who has already completed the leg of the journey on which you find yourself.
But my time will come too, I suppose, and hopefully before things become dire. Then I'll pick up my rucksack, the knowledge I have gained from my stay, and turn to the horizon, a better man for having been there. Because, after all, it's not a detour. It's part of the journey; a stop I unknowingly needed along the way.

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