Yesterday was my one year anniversary as a full time, professional librarian.
Working full time is not what I thought it would be like. But then again, I didn’t think that in between working part time and working full time I would work 17 part time jobs at once while going to grad school.
Working full time at my job is not what I thought it would be like. It’s better. It’s worse. It involves more spreadsheets.
A while ago I read Brené Brown’s Dare Greatly and refused to review it here because I could barely even read it without weeping much less write about it. It’s a book that sits under my skin.
There’s a chapter where Brown asks her interviewees what makes them feel most vulnerable – that emotion, that state that we love, we hate, we need – and I still remember the answer that stopped my breath for a second on an airplane in January.
I love it. I do. I mean, sometimes I hate it, but the next day I go back to indifference and then a few days later I take a look at how g.d. lucky I am and I love it again.
I’m a young person in her first professional position. I don’t know if I’ll be here until I’m 30 or 40 or 65. I worry that the timing isn’t right, that public service will kill my spirit, that this city will kill my spirit.
But I also worry that there won’t be another job for me quite like this one. It’s been a real blessing. I’m so glad all this schooling and anxiety and reading and nonsense has led me here. It’s just where I need to be.