Right now, I have the privilege to pursue my creative writing again. Since your girl has neither a trust fund nor sugardaddy, I’ll still need to work for a sustainable income. In order to make this commitment to myself, I have internalized the reasons why I will always prioritize flexible, remote economic work situations to buttress the REAL work and actual building I hope to accomplish for 2020.
- I don’t measure my worth and contributions to society in terms of my “career”
I have worked across industries and sectors. I have an inherent knack for logistics and resourceful crisis handling — which is very weird for someone with a strong artistic background. I will spreadsheet the hell out of anything, and I am damn good at it. Can I find innovative solutions to weird ass problems quickly and add value to any job I enter? Absolutely! Am I marketable? Yes! But do I love it? Hell fucking no. I value myself on how I interact and engage with my communities, how I treat people with thoughtfulness and understanding , and the good that I contribute beyond recycling. (I say that because for some people, recycling is their maximum contribution to society.) That’s sad. I care for none of that. But I do recycle. - Work is inherently exploitative
Under capitalism, work is inherently commodifying my labor and me. The full profits that I make for the company or organization – I’ll never get ‘em. For every $50 I take home, my direct supervisor likely makes $200, and the company makes upwards of 2x that amount…possibly per minute. So, I will never bring home what my contributions to the job *actually* create. Such is capitalism and the neoliberal policies that support it. How do I disengage from exploiting my labor? - You are expendable.
..and so am I? Pretty self-explanatory. The job market steeped in scarcity economics means that labor power will always be found on cheaper, better, faster terms. Employers are not worried about you. At-will employment means your employer can fire/furlough you at any point, and without notice. Yet, per your contract, you’re mandated at least 2-weeks notice for departure, unless you want your last paycheck garnished or withheld entirely. Many times, retaliation and other forms of micro-agression and harassment happen during this window. While you might have a case with the NLRB, just to endure it all? Man, fuck that. - The nonprofit sector is STILL exploitative – maybe even worse than for-profit companies!
And working in the non-profit industrial complex (NPIC) doesn’t change the nature of exploitation. In fact, beginning with lower wages and salaries compared to the market, many non-profits rely on bleeding heart employees to work longer hours in the name of the cause. And while not every non-profit does this, it’s a common experience for many non-profit workers and staff. - I truly hate working for other people
Everyone is awful. There is something inherently oppressive in having to wake up very early and shower in the morning for someone you do not love. It’s especially grueling when your supervisors and bosses are just a bunch of idiots. I would like to limit that sort of engagement to new stupids in the areas of my life. - I hate other peoples dreams
Now, I’m not saying you can’t have dreams, but your dreams aren’t mine. When I help you towards your dreams, I am derailed from pursuing my own. Therefore, I am extremely dubious when people build a business model around their “dream”. I made a deal with myself that I would never “monetize” the things I love. Other people’s dreams are terrible once we start talking about “scalable models” and having other people do the work to make it go. I do not want to contribute to someone else’s vision, especially when I can only half-agree (at most) with whatever it is. This is how I feel about a lot of non-profit models from trust fund babies. - Coworkers suck
I dislike hanging out with coworkers. I never think it’s a good idea. It’s also the worst when coworkers are friends only due to the sheer number of hours they’ve spent together, and because they’re new in town and lonely. It’s a lot of TMI – you find out about pet gerbils you don’t care about, and then suddenly you’re at your local grocer’s freezer case holding mediocre cupcakes to go to Greg’s kid’s birthday party on a rainy Saturday in March. I can’t. Sure, folks can fight me on this, since I do acknowledge that not having fully fleshed out relationships with my coworkers has definitely put me on the losing end when it comes to certain office dynamics in the past. But this is just my preference. I have a lot of friends. I’m VERY popular. - Occupational hazards are not reciprocally rewarded
I have done some dangerous shit for work. The pay was not commensurate to the risks involved. Yes, there are occupational hazards we have to accept: firemen will be exposed to fire, OB/GYNs will see a lot of ripped vaginas, and those white hazmat suit guys will mos def meet E.T. Sometimes, the expectation to go above and beyond when you aren’t even making close to $20/hr (for an actual living wage in the NYC area) and have no medical insurance is doodoo. Walk off the job! - I need flexibility.
I’ve made specific career choices in my life – that’s why I’m not a doctor or teacher (anymore) where there’s gravity and consequences when I leave. I’m flighty. I get bored easily. I generate my own fun. I like pursuing my interests and following my curiosity . When days are boring and all blend together, I die a little inside. I am designing my life so that I can leave any time I need to or want to. Working in a cubicle where people rely on me does not support that lifestyle. I also prefer being in the comfort of my home, not wearing any pants. This is my natural state.
The last time I worked a full-time desk job was a traumatizing experience. I was at a non-profit that suddenly lost a ton of funding, and our small staff was automatically furloughed. The holidays were approaching, and I was visiting family on the Gold Coast of Australia using all of my vacation days. When the staff was discussing how to move forward, there were so many complications in communication across time zones that being severed from that organization was such a clunky experience. There were so. many. office dynamics at play. My mental health was suffering, despite having a high EQ to finesse my way through these situations. It was just exhausting.
When positions were officially cut from the organization, my choices were between building my career or pursuing my passion projects (writing creative non-fiction and finishing up other film projects at the time.)
I chose my art. I picked up odd jobs and returned to the restaurant/nightlife industry for the flexibility and higher pay. But the promise I made to myself was that this flexibility would allow me the time to work on my projects. Then, I didn’t get to focus since I was always tired, and I would get caught
Listen, working as a server or bartender is rough. You are on your feet for at least 8-12 hours. Family meals tend to suck. The industry is sleazy, and while people love calling the back/front of house their “family”, BOY OH BOY IS THERE A SHIT TON OF INCEST GOING ON! And there’s so much continued interaction with asshole strangers as a server for very little pay. Sometimes, as a bartender, the profit margins are higher, but have you ever denied a man 3x your size another Modelo because he keeps disrobing at seat B7? ! Es no bueno!
I’m a little too old, and way less tolerant. So, this is a promise to myself to focus on my work, my writing, and to bypass work dynamics and pantsless strangers.