When I was younger, the adults would ask me what my ambition was. For some reason, I always gravitated towards prestigious titles ー doctor, lawyer, astronaut. At some point, I aspired to be a veterinarian.
The adults were impressed all the same. "You're going to earn a lot of money," they agreed unanimously.
Those were some ambitious dreams: the kind of dreams I never genuinely chased after or worked towards. Perhaps, the circumstances I grew up in conditioned me to have those ideas. Or maybe the glaringly obvious society norms influenced my answers. Possibly yet, it could've been my mom's die-hard wish for me to turn into someone of great title.
By the end of my A-levels, I made becoming a writer my goal. And I accomplished that during internship. Even now, I regularly contribute to Simply Her as a freelance writer.
But ask anyone out there and they'd tell you writing is not a sustainable job. Much less a prestigious one.
And I agree.
When I began looking for a full-time job, I skewed my search to writing positions, especially within the government sector. I was adamant about becoming a writer because I believe in the power of words, especially having experienced it on many occasions.
"I want to move people with words; move people to be better, to do better for this world."
There were so many times I wished the world was a better place to live in ー when I read about terrorism, when I read about human trafficking, when I read about drug trafficking, when I read about bullying, when I read about shootings, when I read about animal abuse. The world didn't seem all that bad when I was younger but growing older also means opening my eyes to what I never knew existed out there and I was honestly appalled, and subsequently lost.
Granted, I wasn't always a good writer. Heck, even after a year and a half of magazine-style writing, I'm not half as decent a writer I wish I could be. But that didn't change my belief in words ー a double-edged sword that can hurt or heal.
Unfortunately, no one earns a living from writing. Not in Singapore, at least.
So this job hunt has been nothing short of challenges and hardship because I don't know what I'm looking for yet I know I won't be satisfied with just any job.
In a world that's moved by money and ambition, do I look for a job that pays me well or do I look for a job that complements my interests? Is it really impossible to have the best of both worlds?
Talking to the bestf, who is currently on a 10-week fully paid-for internship in Uganda, he advises me to accept the job if I get offered after my interview on Friday. Just before that, I told him I'm being interviewed for a content writer position and he asked me if that was one of my dream jobs.
"Woah, I don't think so. I haven't figured what entails my dream job."
But that got me thinking about what really encompasses the term dream job.
I know for sure that I'm desperate for a job right now. And I would probably accept the first offer I get because I need something to do. I'm finally starting to feel insecure about bumming at home and staring at my sad bank balance isn't making things any better.
In the last two weeks, Jo and I have talked about this job thing every time we met. And we both agree while we don't want to rush into a job hastily, we also don't want to be jobless for a prolonged period. Our concern is the same: What if the job we end up with isn't the job we imagined it to be?
Quitting after a couple of months would look bad on our résumé but sticking it out longer would mean compromising ourselves. (Cue the workaholics judgment on how the young generation lacks determination.)
Honestly, though, this being my first step into the corporate world, I'd like my first job to be the right one. The right one in terms of work-life balance, benefits, opportunities to grow and salary. But the deciding factor would actually lie in how much I like the job.
I know of people who plunge into a job because they need a job. Some make a name out for themselves, others escape before reaching the finishing line. But that's a thin line to tread, no? What if I never make it to the finishing line nor do I make good out of myself? What if I wander in uncertainty because I just don't feel for my job?
Ahh, these worries are real. So real I wish I didn't have to deal with them. So real I wish I had money to start a pet business and buy lots of land to house all the abandoned animals.
I've read contradictory accounts of what exactly a dream job is. Most say there's no such thing as a dream job ー you turn your job, whatever it is, into your dream job. There exists a small group who seem to know clearly what their job would be right from the get-go.
I, obviously, can't decide for myself because I haven't lived long enough to experience that yet. But for as long as I remember, I have never once passionately dreamt of being someone more than just me.
If only being me was sustainable.
I guess I don't yet have a dream job. Or rather, I don't have the luxury to take my own time and figure out what my dream job is. I might find out along the way ー through several jobs or through several challenges within one job ー or I may never find out.
All I know is whatever my job turns out to be, it'll be fulfilling and meaningful. It's got to be one that excites me, that forces me to be better, that encourages me to work harder. Realistically speaking, it's got to be a job that supports work-life balance and pays me well.
Sigh, I wonder if that's too much to ask but I sure as hell don't look forward to slogging my youth away.
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