stand up and stop complaining

It is September 13, 2009. I have been a college graduate for one year and three months in two days. I’m in my second job since college, one of 137 rats in a passionless customer service maze of a call center hell hole, one step up from the front desk of a hotel which was job number one. Being screamed at to my face lasted just over five months. Being screamed at over the phone has lasted seven, now, which makes it immensely more successful - and depressing. At least I’m getting paid more.
In the last seven months, I’ve done my fair share of complaining, whining and moping around the house. That is an incredible understatement. I have a mental breakdown about once a week, which involve me crying to my mother about why I just can’t do this anymore; have nearly stopped eating in the mornings, replacing food with caffeine and miniature panic attacks; and to top it all off, have started smoking cigarettes. I’m contemplating seeing a psychologist.

The things we do for money.

I’m not sure what I was expecting after college, but I know it wasn’t this. I’ve been job searching in this cesspool of an economy since May, with no luck except other insurance agencies trying to recruit me for sales. No thanks. I’ve thought about begging for a job at Starbucks and also simply quitting on the spot with no idea of “what to do next.” I do love coffee, but somehow maintain my last ounce of sanity when I go in for my daily does and have yet to get on my knees with my resume taped to my forehead.

But I probably wouldn’t be happy there either. I don’t think customer service is for me. I got my degree in creative writing, studied acting for about half of my time in college and I'm a photographer in my heart. Pretending I care about why some old person’s insurance increased (you ran into a tree, you dolt, and we had to pay for the tree, your car, and the neighbor’s fence!) is the most challenging roll I’ve ever accepted. I’d so much rather go back to the Good Angel in Faustus, even with the bad costume and lighting.

I know, another artist complaining about how hard it all is. "Real life isn’t all they told me it’d be, and I still have to pay for my loan? Wah wah wah." My dad thought it was totally ridiculous that a student sued his college after graduating and not being able to find a job. I really can’t find it in me to blame the guy. I envy him a bit. I don’t think UCR'd be able to give me much if I sued them. Really, there’s only so much positive thinking and crossing of fingers that a single person can do before you take matters into your hands. Or your lawyer's.

There are a lot of ideas in my head about how to get myself out of this. There are many more things I want to do with my life. I’d love to start loving my life. I’d love to actually do something to help others. I’ve got plans. I’m young, I’m dedicated, I graduated Magna Cum Laude, I'm smart, I’ve got creativity, and I haven’t ever really felt the sting of failure.

I think it’s time to try reaching for my goals, even if I fall hard on my face from stretching too far on the edge of that ladder. I’m ready for some bumps and bruises. I’m ready for whatever I need to do to stop wearing a headset and apologizing for somebody else's mistakes. I want to make my own damn mistakes, and have nobody to blame but me.

Let’s go.