First Job Blues

Woo I graduated.  Oh, that was two years ago, almost to the day.

So like any good college kid would, I sat around my house because, well, it was freaking summer.  Eventually, my Dad reared his head upstairs.  I peered out from behind my slowly dying desktop to hear, "get off of your ass and go look for a job".  Ugh.  Wasn't I supposed to get one last summer before reality smacked me in the face and knocked me on my ass?

Work sucks.  Plain and simple.

Of course, I worked most of my summers during college as your local McCrew member.  That was a treat.  Within 24 hours, I had already been asked to apply for manager.  To be fair, this may have been because the manager working (not my current boyfriend) was into me.  And let's be honest, who isn't seduced by my childlike wonder?

I digress.

The first "real" job I had came after I stupidly put my resume on careerbuilder.com.  My phone blew up!  You'd think I was going to give money to the first person to give me an opportunity to continue paying state taxes.  Essentially, every offer that came from the exposure I got on that site was a crap job; remember, I worked at McDonald's.  As a new college graduate with...decent grades, I was being offer opportunities to sell people office supplies and telemarket.  Not my thing.

One day, I was sitting on the couch in the office with my Dad and this magical person called from Quicken Loans.  She saw my resume and wanted to know if I was still looking for a job.  Considering that all of my prior calls had been busted, and not knowing anything about the company, I told her I had found other employment.  My Dad wasn't having that nonsense.  "Quicken Loans has been named one of the best places to work for.  Why did you tell her you had a job?  You can't sit on your duff all day here you know!"  Yes, I know.  So I called them back, set up and interview and before you know it I'm dealing in a whole paperwork mess because I wanted to keep my side job selling watches at Parisian for extra cash.  Orientation was all 100 new hires for the month smuggling as much red bull out of the auditorium you could fit in your monogrammed bag.  I hated that job.  The pay couldn't keep me there.  I aced every test.  When I hit the sales floor, I had all the knowledge in the world.  But that didn't stop me crying to and from work for the first weeks.  People can be so rude over the phone, who knew.

Finally, after sticking it out about six months and constantly threatening to quit, I did.  Everything boils down to the economy (did i mention I have a BA in economics?).  My state, like many others, is hemorrhaging talented people because we aren't experienced enough to assimilate into the jobs of our elders.  The way things are going now, you just have to take any job that sounds halfway decent.  And it did.  Until it turned out to be glorified telemarketing.  The job was about money. Period.

If I had wanted to be a money hungry yuppie, I'd have gone to an Ivy League school and I'd be running away to Paris to get the next Birkin bag.  We graduate thinking the world is our oyster and we burn out trying to be the shining stars others always wanted to be.My point in this rather lengthy tale is that life is simply too short to stay in a crap job.  You have to be happy(ish) in whatever you decide to do.  My misery wasn't worth the paychecks that stopped having double pay for overtime when I had served my initial purpose.

Any first job tales?