My Job is Hell

It’s five minutes until I can officially clock out of here and I’m not in any mood to make those last five minutes count. I’ve been making every minute count the last week. It’s no secret that I take pride in my work, I enjoy excelling, even above others who are more experienced than I am. I don’t mind making people who should know better look a bit foolish probably because that’s how I learn best.

Another fact which is also not a secret is that I hate my job. I don’t even care who reads this because you can’t be fired for hating your job. Where I work, you can’t even get fired for sucking hard core at your job. The double edged sword of working at a public institution of higher education is that while your job is relatively secure, that means they can never fire the morons that manage to land positions. Another double edged sword? Nothing ever changes but something is always changing. Welcome to the American education system.

I shouldn’t complain, right? I have a job, I make ends meet, and as long as you don’t count student loans, I’m not drowning in credit card debt. I have health insurance until my husband pulls the plug on it. I’m not hurting. But at the same time, it’s human name, particularly if you’re a female, to complain.

And boy, do I love to complain about my job.

Let’s start with the fact that I work with all women. The American professional labor market has not changed in such a way as to be conducive towards women. The labor force is still defined in very masculine ways, and so women tend to feel the pressure a bit more than men do. Men already have those expectations of themselves. But when you get an office full of women, the trouble really begins, because for those of us who have had professional jobs before and know how to behave, it looks like a circus from down here. The gossip, the backbiting, the over-loyalty, and the ass-kissing. It’s all so elementary and stupid. If you’ve ever wondered why men kept women from excelling in the professional world, spend a week in my office. It’s emotional war. It’s like getting shot in the heart with an arrow lined with lipstick. It’s hell.

I can only hope I leave here with more lessons learned than I started with. I’ve definitely grown strengths I didn’t know I had before while working here.