What's that grinding sound? Is that my soul?

I've complained a lot about my job lately. I know its getting old. You are all sick of my whining. Sorry. I need one more little rant and then I think I am good to move on to other matters. I read something the other day that made me think about why I hate my job. Why does it feel like my soul is being crushed? Why do I itch to move on?

I've had jobs that were more demeaning, paid less, and required more labor. I've had bosses I couldn't stand. My current boss is actually quite pleasant. I work fifty or more hours a week, but I held a full time job while taking a full load at school, so it isn't just about the time either. I thought about it quite a bit yesterday and this morning and I have come to a decision.

The real reason I am unhappy with my job is because it does not align with any of my personal ideals. I love to do multiple things. You should have noticed by now that I jump around when it comes to hobbies. I carve, draw, write, paint, refinish furniture, am building a teardrop trailer, and delve into science. I love to learn and create. I love to make abstract things in my head into real tangible objects. I love progress, new cutting edge technologies. I love to see something old and broken become beautiful and useful once more. These things feed my soul and engender joy in the deepest part of who I am.

My career in Hotel Management does not. It ultimately serves little purpose, creates nothing, and does not push any envelope of progression. I have read many blogs lately about great epiphanies where people have successfully quit their jobs to start something new and exciting. They became entrepreneurs, started their own businesses, explored their artistic sides, or just moved on to a better career. I didn't buy it. They fell flat on my internal ears. I'm a creative pragmatist. I haven't had a great life altering epiphany nor am I looking for one. I do not need to reinvent myself. I don't think quitting a job will suddenly bring me all the happiness I could ever want. In truth, I am happy with who I am. I just wish I could be myself more often.

So, I was wrong about the soul crushing. I understand that now. My soul is not being pulped under the weight of my work or ground down by the mind numbing monotony of the piled on hours. I thought a lack of recognition, raises, or promotions added extra pounds to the soul squishing. These descriptions are inaccurate. My soul is not being crushed. Starved is closer to the truth. My job crowds out the things that I love, the things that make me happy at the deepest level. I'm going to try not to complain about my job as much. I will find ways to feed my malnourished soul until I find a job that makes doing so easier.

Unicorn Poop

I remember being lied to as a child. I was told I could be anything, do anything. Work hard and get an education and life will reward you with all your dreams and wishes. I was also promised a flying car. Lies.

Somewhere above us is a dream factory. Unicorns are working hard squeezing out our marshmello dreams. These dreams roll down the rainbow conveyor belts and drop magically down upon us. Somewhere along the line my conveyor belt has slipped. Somewhere up there rainbow belts are falling to the cloud floor, dreams are crashing into one another, fires are igniting, alarms are sounding, and unicorns are running around crazy with hard hats and marmalade extinguishers.

In all honesty, I do believe in education and hard work. I don't believe that all your dreams can come true, but some can. You can't wait for the rainbows to drop them on you though. You have to have a plan.

I had a plan once. Get a degree in English Literature, get a Masters, teach college, get a PhD, write and teach. I got sucked into the hotel industry while I went to school and was perfectly content to do so for a while. Then the plan slipped. Now, I am working 50 to 60 hours a week, my cholesterol is out of control, I never get weekends or holidays off, and my soul hurts. I barely write and I never get to teach. I am looking for the exit. My soul cannot take the crushing much longer.

My dream is to write, draw, carve, paint, design, teach, and refinish furniture. Random, I know, but it could work. I would also like to be fabulously wealthy. Like I said, you can't have all your dreams. I am letting the wealthy thing go...and the flying car, though begrudgingly.

My wife and I have implemented our plan to break me out of the hotel industry. We are dropping to basic cable and will no longer eat out. Sacrifice is painful, but chafes your soul much less than self compromise. This should save us anywhere from $3,000 to $5,000 a year. This money will go towards debt and savings. Once we have our credit cards gone and about $7,000 in savings, I am safe to take some risk and jump into making money on my own through my random talents. I have the business license already set up to refinish furniture. I can write and paint all I want once I have the time as long as I actually sell my stuff. This is the plan and we will stick to it this time. No allowing for distracti...ooooohhh...look at that shiny...No! No distractions. We will make these dreams a reality if I have to climb up there and wrestle them from those sticky dream-master's hooves.