This seems to be a perennial argument I have over and over with people in my life, especially my parents. I know millenials are uniquely subject to criticism about this, but there has always been a debate about just doing a job for the paycheck versus finding something that you love to do. Of course, the ideal is the latter but most of us settle for the former. And some of us actually don’t believe that you can love your work or every aspect of it.
Whenever I had this conversation with either of my parents, it always turned into a lecture. About how they handled their careers. My mom always told me that if you were bored at your job, you weren’t paying enough attention. There was so much to find interesting, you just had to dive in. If something is boring on the surface, go digging deeper. Find the interesting aspects, the cool stuff that hides underneath the surface. She told me that no matter what job she had, she always loved it and found it interesting. And challenged me to do the same.
I tried. My first job was a part-time office job at the university alumni office. The hours were flexible and my co-workers were great, so I liked the job. But there was no way around the fact that it was the most mind-numbingly boring hours I spent at university, trying to stay awake while sticking stamps on envelopes and putting labels, stuffing letters to alumni for donations. Or filing papers. And doing it all over again the next day. At least now I would probably have listened to an audiobook; at the time I only thought over and over again how much I disliked the job. But I found ways to make it more interesting. I learned everyone’s coffee and tea preferences and brought them a cuppa just the way they liked it. They were thrilled and I was happy to have an excuse to get up and move around. I helped organize piles of marketing materials and brochures that were stacked in open boxes and strewn around various cupboards; I managed to corral the spread-out mess into neat labelled magazine holders in one cupboard. The entire office came to admire my handiwork and applauded; they had never imagined that the ugly mess could be transformed. I had no idea that I had a hidden talent for organizing, I was simply trying to get out of doing even more filing. Eventually I got promoted and answered the telephone and dealt with the mail. But the job never really became particularly interesting.
Some years later I had another part-time gig, this time organizing photos of stamps for a professional collector who bought and sold items on eBay. It was equally mind-numbing, and I passed the time listening to audiotapes for the upcoming bar exam I was swotting for at the time. Nothing had really made this job any easier, but it did get better when I was allowed to do it from home after I sprained my ankle and could no longer walk to work.
Other jobs I have had may have certain interesting elements, but I never really loved the work. I am not even sure I loved most aspects of the work. According to my dad, there are always some parts of the job that are tedious and boring. Maybe you enjoy talking to customers, but you don’t like the paperwork and admin part you have to do. Or you like doing research and writing reports but you hate the weekly team meetings. My dad always said you have to be prepared to handle the parts of the job you don’t like or find tedious, in order to enjoy the parts you do like. While that makes sense, it is also eminently practical. Too practical for my romantic notions of life and work.
You see, for a period of time I had a job that I loved. I know its rare, but I enjoyed every single aspect of it. Sure, there were parts that were more interesting than others, meatier. But I even managed to love the grunt work, the tedious boring busy work that typically people hate and put off. I too put off things, but more because I was afraid or didn’t know enough or simply procrastinated. But when I actually sat down to do the work, I loved every second.
For a few lucky years, I got to spend the majority of time running an indie publishing house. I wrote my own books, edited them myself and managed the entire publishing and marketing process. I did my own design work, managed social media accounts and reached out to bloggers, working on getting reviews and crucial marketing pushes. There was a steep learning curve and I was constantly out of my depth. But I loved every second. I loved staying up till 2 am, formatting the manuscript so that it would go out to the stores on time for launch day. I loved fixing every single error that prevented my file uploading and checking every single link to ensure that the reading experience was smooth. I loved making 20 versions of my book cover and getting an informal poll to see which one worked better. I loved receiving emails from bloggers who agreed to review my book. ( I liked slightly less sending out emails to bloggers that went unanswered). But there was no aspect of the work I found tedious, or boring, or sleep-inducing. I wouldn’t have outsourced the work even if I had the budget to do so, I loved every minute. And when it became clear that I was not making the kind of money I needed to and I had to move on (or at least get a day job and relegate this to the margins of my life), I still hadn’t lost my enthusiasm for the work. Or my desire to get better enough at it that one day it might be a viable concern.
I enjoy my current job, most of the time. There are many aspects of the job that has improved my life, not least the fact that I spend my days talking to actual human beings and interacting with others, instead of spending all day along asking myself if I should use Garamond or Cambria for that heading. I get to do work that is mostly interesting and work with intelligent people with varied backgrounds. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that there are many tedious and less palatable aspects to the work as well. This is probably what my dad referred to when he said all jobs have aspects that aren’t fun, but you simply have to do them anyway. I get that. But I also know what it is like to do work that you love completely, with no exceptions. And I’m not sure if you can always have that, but it sure would be nice to have it again.