the cassingle revival
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20 years old, a blog held from the age of 16, Australia, girl, young adult problems and resolutions, an honest and dry look at myself learning to be a better, bigger, happier person, artist, photographer.
Trying to find my place in the world, a career, a family, to move on from the hectic world of the Bartender.
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Friday, 29 April 2011, 11:16 pm
what you'll miss
at 18, I feel a little inadequate.
I work two jobs on top of a full time study course, but I still don't feel like my time is well used. My major boss at my major job is a major asshole -- but I like him. None of the other employees do. He's going through chemotherapy, as well as being elderly, as well as running a busy pub. This doesn't give you a right to be an asshole, but it gives the people around him a reason to forgive him for it. Today, he called me lazy at what I do. He hasn't seen me work since my first two shifts, when I was weary to break anything, fuck anything up, and wasn't quite sure as to what I was doing. Like following a maths formula, you need something to follow. Now being much more aware and efficient, I'm faster and less watching, more doing. Needless to say, this still caused some questioning in my mind as to if I really am lazy in my work. I came to the conclusion that I'm not, but I am a stagnant observer when I'm unsure of something. Maybe that's just a sign of a poor multi-tasker.
Walking back into class, the one male in the minimal group asked if I'd ever been on Centrelink. I said no, I didn't believe in taking money off people or abusing the system when I'm perfectly capable of working for it. He said stoutly "bartending? Menial work. It means nothing." This got my spikes up a little bit. I'm quite proud of any work I do and I enjoy earning a paycheck. I learned a lot very quickly when I was thrown behind the bar and I am really very satisfied by my work. I like that it's generally unobstrusive -- it doesn't particularly hurt anyone and it doesn't particularly hurt nature. In comparison to say, oil drilling anyway.
So my beaming pride was shot down in a minute, and I began to question my motives and reasons for working when I could just be a bum.
This didn't last long. Being a bum just doesn't sit right with me.
So I keep going to my two jobs.
After my smug realisation, sitting on the desk watching the curser move across my monitor on its own regard, I began questioning myself again. I'd irritated my boss by being lazy, and my fellow student by not being lazy enough.
I'm the type of girl who likes to please everyone, and this was a mind: blown sort of situation for me to be in.
So I got the thinking about how nearly everyone else I know is a lot more settled into their jobs and careers than I am.
It then occurred to me the people I was thinking of were between the ages of 25 and 70 years old.
Other 18 year olds surrounding me, I didn't particularly crease much mind to until I remembered this. So I drew up a table comparing myself to those around me of my age and similar statistics. I was the only one not using government benefits, and I can't quite figure out if this is a good or a bad thing. The others around me worked 1 job as well as part time or full time study, or no job at all. The minority owned their own car. Even less owned their own car outright. No one else had paid for their car out of their own pocket -- their parents bought it for them. None had assets, and few had savings worth mentioning. A percentage had children and or were pregnant, and none were married. One other girl had a meaningful job as a check-out girl in casual hours -- but blows her paycheck on alcohol every weekend.
This comparison didn't particularly make me feel anything except unmotivated by my companions. So I began thinking about the types of careers I could have.
I could have a career that becomes my very existence -- like a Dr. or a Lawyer or a Scientist or a pHD holder. I could hold something tedious and responsible, like the photography I did for cash-in-hand. But this seems somewhat meaningless in the scheme of things and doesn't really appeal to me as a career. Possibly a supplement for one.
For now, I think I'll stick with being a bartender.
It's a nice job. It's good pay, it sounds glamorous, and you get to know a lot of good people.
You also get to know the majority of the whores, sleazes and sexually agressive males in town, too.
But that's alright. Professional.
Pro, pro pro pro pro pro pro.
All in all, I think I'm doing okay for 18 years old, but could be doing better.
I do worry that by the time I'm 25 I won't know what I want.
Then I worry I'll be 32 and not know what I want.
Then I worry I'll be 45 and not know what I want.
Maybe I'll just go bohemian.