We've got a landlubber!

Or: "Epiphany! I don't have to hate my job!"

When I wrote this old post about wanting to work at Trader Joe's, I wasn't really kidding. A new Trader Joe's is under construction one mile from my house...

"So, are you going to teach?" just about every single person I ever told I was an English major asked. Teaching was the farthest thing from my plans, which never really formed a career path. I majored in English because I didn't have to try very hard at it (one of these days when I overcome my math anxiety, I'll blog about how many math courses I failed) and I reveled in the glory of being praised for putting in very little effort at the last minute.

Over the years, I stumbled my way into a career in editing for a book publisher, an advertising agency and (after refusing to take Corporate Communications for my Communications minor because I had principles and would never sell them out, dammit!!) the Corporate Comm department of a multibillion-dollar corporation that operates nuclear plants. It wasn't easy or fun anymore in that last job. I made a lot of money as a contractor, but for all the effort I put in and for all the errors I corrected, there were always people whose work I made better waiting in the wings to bitch about any mistakes I made.

Further complicating my stay in ultra-corporate America was my complete inability to rein in my honesty if forced to respond to a question or to control my "nonverbals." I learned that term there, along with other meaningless phrases like, "opportunity," "diversity" and "team-building."

It was in a "team-building" exercise that I got seated next to a screechy-voiced, sour-faced middle manager (the same age as me) who never once thanked me for rewriting her work to make it read like she actually graduated from J-School and who gleefully pointed out every typo I zoomed over but spell check would have caught if she used it. The question, intended to help us get to know and love each other, was, "What is your dream job?"

"Retail," I responded, "I love retail."

(The answer they were looking for was management. Management. Thanks for playing and enjoy this case of Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco Treat.)

"Ugh," she sneered at me. Then, as she was the moderator and had to follow up, she sighed, "Why?"

("Because I never, ever want to be like you," I thought.)

"Because I love meeting and talking to people," I replied.

("Because when I've ever encountered someone like you while helping them shop, I knew I wouldn't have to see them the next day, and the day after, and the day after...," I thought.)

Here's where the epiphany comes in: I really don't ever have to deal with people like her or crappy office jobs again. Steve and I live simply with our two cats in our small house and Steve LOVES his job. I pick up freelance here and there and enjoy it. But as for corporate America? I really don't ever have to do that again.

Say that aloud and think how worth the monetary sacrifice it is if you hate your job or if you left a job you hated: I really don't ever have to do that again. Feels good, doesn't it?

I want to go to Trader Joe's a few hours every morning, talk to people, ring the bell and get a discount.