The Struggle Is #FirstWorldProblems

I’m in a pickle.

I’m in a great place in my life. I’m physically healthier than I’ve ever been, mentally there are some ‘quirks’ but I’m aware of them now which was half the battle and they can be challenging but I’m managing. I have a roof over my head and food in my stomach which wasn’t always a given and I’m grateful. My partner & I were together 6 years before we took a holiday together and in the 27 months since that first holidays we’ve been to 6 countries together. I have an amazing landlord and an amazing boss. I’m grateful.

I don’t like my job and it’s so damn inconvenient.

My life around my job is great. I’m achieving goals and working on things I put off for far too long. My early twenties were not fun, but as I slide into my thirties I’m having the time of my life. My damn job though. And even within my job there are things I love; my boss, my team. It’s the job itself it just doesn’t drive me and there’s nowhere to grow. I struggle with a guilt. Who am I to expect more? I go to work in a fancy building where everyone is cripplingly polite and I leave at 6 (ish) everyday. There’s no manual labour, no one ever yells at me, what is my problem? Maybe I’m listening to too much Hamilton.

My biggest fear is that I’ll have children and won’t like them but thats a separate issue my SECOND biggest fear is that I’ll wake up in a job I don’t like and it’ll be 10 years later and I’ll have sleepwalked through my own life. So even within this inner turmoil there’s gratitude, I’m grateful for my gut instinct telling me to look for another path. I’m also grateful I have the liberty to take my time. I’m not desperate, I can choose to look for opportunities that interest me.

The struggle is real, but it’s also a privilege.

Now if I only knew what the hell is it I wanted to do.


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