Idealists and Work - Can We Ever Get Along?

It's 2 days before Thanksgiving and a familiar feeling is kicking in. I've been in this position before: unemployed around the holidays, with little hope of finding a job until employers are free from seasonal distractions. Meanwhile the days have gotten short and night comes early, pushing me indoors and making cabin fever set in that much faster. Projects exist, but nothing critical, and they don't call as loudly as the cell-level remembrance that between now and February, I get pretty squirrelly.


So I usually plan a trip to Mexico in January. This year, however, with no regular incoming funds, husband unemployed, and an unsettling economic forecast, it's not looking good. Help wanted ads are dwindling. I just finished interviewing with the only employer of eight in the last two months who responded to my application. They must have liked me, because I was invited back for a second interview. Though I put on my best face, I was not called back for round three.

Maybe they sensed my ambivalence about work. I fluffed up my best internal arguments for wanting such a position, with all the growth and social opportunities it would provide. I like to work – in fact, I need to for my happiness. And, I enjoy doing almost whatever is needed for any employer, since service is my raison d'etre. As long as the organization's mission and values are akin to my own, I will last a couple of years in such an environment.

But for years now there's been a lot of foot dragging on my part to commit to a permanent "office job" – the kind that binds you to one location all day, waiting for your measly two weeks vacation to arrive. As I told the women I just interviewed with, if I'm not learning and growing, I probably wouldn't stay longer than a couple of years. I usually begin to get itchy around 18 months. Also essential is that I have a lot of contact with various types of people, and can talk and problem solve and move around. In fact, I'd probably be happy as a barista or deli counter person, or some hospitality position. But there's the rub: they don't make more than minimum wage. And, I'm not getting the impression that many employers want middle aged females in their customer contact jobs. (Never mind the fact that I would be the best employee they could hope for, with high energy and a passion for helping people get what they want and need.) The other dilemma is the old "you're overqualified" argument. I think making a dumbed-down résumé just rose to the top of my to do list.

Regarding foot-dragging and work, is it because of unreachable idealism or realistic, listen-to-your-soul information? Probably both. Trying to match the ideal to the real in our imperfect world nearly always leaves a gap. Then there's the fear of becoming trapped or stuck. What's that really all about? At some point, all of this needs to be put aside until survival-mode passes. It's nice to know I can do that now, because it wasn't always the case.

To be in limbo was agitating, waiting to hear if I made the "final cut." But, the deadline has passed with no word. I feel an odd mix of relief and worry. "Good," a large part of me says. "This leaves room for something better to come along." There's a vacuum now where the energy and hopes put into this were, and so here's another transition to pass through. Funny about us seekers – having something solid robs us of the search. Not seeking feels passive, a feeling I personally have trouble with. Active, proactive, learning, moving, growing, problem solving – now that sounds exciting. Is that really too much to ask from work?