Identity Crises-Am I My Job?

 

There’s a strange thing that happens to a man in this country. He can be successful at his job, make good money, and live well…yet….something nags at him. Something almost primal. He asks himself, “Am I where I should be? Do I feel good about my job title? Can I hold my head up with pride and tell people what I do for a living?” If any one of those answers are “no,” that man gets nervous. He starts to worry. What now? It’s a true existential dilemma. I asked myself those questions in my late 30’s, and the answers came back: “Your talents are wasting away, your job is stupid, and you should feel stupid. Avoid all future high school reunions.” I have a rough inner voice.

At 39 years old, I was working retail for AT&T. I earned between 72 and 85,000 dollars a year. You read that right. I was woefully underemployed, but I made good money by almost anyone’s standards. I sold cell phones, cable TV, and a bunch of other dumb shit, and yet, I made enough money to buy a new car and a condo.

Pushing 40 though, and despite the money, working retail sales made me feel like an utter failure. My only solution seemed to be to seek a promotion asap or be in my 40’s and beyond doing the same job any teenager could do. That felt undignified and propelled terrifying nightmares. It also propelled a wonderful, magical, drinking problem, and a great game called, “Where Did I Go Wrong,” hosted by my brain.

I didn’t want a promotion in retail. That was out of the question. I’d already done that, and well, it was a circus. And not the fun kind of circus with trapeze artists and cool acrobats, but the bad kind of circus, where elephants get loose and stomp on the children instead of the clowns. Actually, if you hate kids, that would also be a good circus. But I digress.

In my early 30’s I’d worked for Verizon Wireless. I went from a call center associate to assistant store manager. At the Verizon stores, I did well financially, but the stress was insane. After battling customers, upper management, and a constant stream of 70 hour work weeks for two years, I’d had enough and walked away from the company. I knew it was time to go when I saw two store managers hospitalized for nervous exhaustion. It was nearly my fate too.

I learned an important lesson at Verizon. One I couldn’t have learned any other way. Wear a pair of pants that compliments your rear end. You’ll never regret it. Also, and perhaps the bigger lesson I learned; money isn’t everything. I never would have believed it when I was scraping by, but making a lot of money wasn’t worth ruining my mental and physical well being. There were things more important than a nice paycheck.

One thing I noticed working at Verizon was how well the salespeople were paid. Some made more than the managers. I brought this up once in a district meeting. I asked the executive running the gathering, “Why are the managers all working 70 hours a week, stressed to the gills, and our sales staff, who work 40 hours a week, makes as much, if not more, than us?” The answer came back “Well, you see, sometimes people choose a path of career enrichment over money.” Ohh…OK …Got it….. Go fuck myself. Thanks for the honesty.

So off to sales it was. I left Verizon and got a job working for AT&T, selling phones in their retail store. It was an easy job. No real pressures. After a year, I was making as much as I did at Verizon. Five years in, and I was making more money than I’d ever made at any job. And yet after five years, even with a good income, I wanted out of the sales grind.

I was burnt out, tired, and fed up with retail. Working every weekend, missing a social life, and feeling like I wasn’t doing anything meaningful weighed on me. So out of internal pressure to get moving with a career or stay stuck in sales forever, I applied and got a promotion out of retail and in to corporate management.

I remember feeling I had just gotten in under the finish line. I was 39, and my new job title was something I didn’t have to feel ashamed of. I could even say it proudly-I was a Business Account Manager. No wincing at all. I also got a company laptop, work autonomy, and a big new corporate office to go to each day. Life felt sweeter. Oh, and my raise for this promotion, you ask? A 30,000 dollar net loss. Yes, I took a huge pay cut for the promotion. Career enrichment indeed.

When I learned I’d be making 42,000, plus a small bonus, I was surprisingly OK with it. That’s how strong my feeling of “Get a better job, and do it now,” was. I knowingly reduced my income just so I could feel better about my social status. I also believed the new title and responsibilities would lead to better money down the road. I was wrong. I was almost laid off three times in two years, received no raises due to the financial meltdown of 2008, and came to hate everything about the actual job. It was boring, uninspiring, and too easy. There was a low hum of depression that hung over the fluorescent lit cubicles. The office was also filled with dull bureaucratic types. No personality in any of them.

I came to recognize rather quickly I just wasn’t corporate material. It wasn’t who I was. I didn’t have the fake smile, the intense love for company over my life, and the type of rah rah bullshit that really does get you moving up in a company. The stereotype of the ass-kisser who gets ahead is alive and well in corporate America. I saw it firsthand. So after three years of trying to be a round peg in a square hole, I left and went back to retail, gratefully. For all of retail’s faults, and there were many, I was in my element there. Soon enough, I was back to making great money and reigniting my passion for drinking too much. Just like old times.

So what is my point? Got me pal, but I’m finally at 1,200 words for this article now, so peace out.

Kidding. Kidding. I do have a point actually. My experience in the AT&T offices gave me a different perspective on those questions I asked myself. The ones I mentioned at the beginning of this piece. After “moving up” and recognizing the feelings of inadequacy that drove me there, I no longer had the desire to climb the so called corporate ladder. I got to see for myself that what I thought my life was missing, wasn’t a job title, but self respect, confidence, and a feeling of peace with who I was. I can’t say I found it when I went back to retail either, but I knew where it wasn’t now, and that was good enough for the time being.