The Monkey Wrench
As anyone who has had the pleasure of reading a few posts on my blog knows, I am engaged in a perpetual job search. I've been trying fruitlessly to ditch my cubicle monkey gig and work in my actual field for some time now. I send out resume after resume, cover letter after cover letter. Or, more appropriately, I scour the internet for leads that would allow me to send out resume after resume, cover letter after cover letter. Usually, my search leaves me more or less empty-handed. But still, I perservere.
Well, now that's all coming to a screeching halt. Or, more appropriately, I'm contemplating throwing in the towel. For now.
First, there's the self-debate I'm engaged in about whether or not I should go back to school for another 3 years or so. This idea fills me with silmutaneous dread and elation. I love school. But it's always been so easy. And the field I'm contemplating would be HARD with a capital "HAR".
But anyway. A new job would make it a helluva lot harder to quit when it's necessary to do so. So that in and of itself has caused me to debate staying here for the time being...
But that's not even the "real" reason. Not anymore.
Damn carpal tunnel. It's worsening. At first, it was this minor annoyance. Then, after I had been diagnosed, I kind of wore it as my badge of martyrdom. See what this horrid job has done to me? Then it kept getting worse. Now I'm scared. After awhile, you forget that you used to be able to open your own jars, to turn the key in the door without wincing, to have nice handwriting. Then you suddenly remember one day and say to yourself: fuck. Fuck.
All the physical therapy, the occupational therapy; it helps to a point. But at the end of the day, it's more than a little frustrating to be told to "watch your salt", and "avoid carrying plastic bags" and "don't use spray bottles". Yeah. Because that's how I got here. It wasn't the 8+ hours a day of keyboarding and mousing that I'm still doing every damn day.
So, long story short, now I'm going for EMG's and they're talking about cortsone shots. And half-time work schedules.
That's a damn fine idea, if you ask me. But it makes it difficult to envision seeking gainful employ elsewhere. "Sure, I'd love to accept this wonderful position! By the way, did I mention that I'm only supposed to work 4 hours a day? Because of my last job? That's not a problem, is it?"
So now, the job that bogs me down, that's reshaped me into someone bitter and loathesome (some days, anyway...) has sucked me in a shade deeper.
I'm beginning to feel as if the Man is winning.