This week I celebrate the completion of nine solid years at this job.
Of course, being who I am, I immediately realize that nine years is how long I had the last job, which means I start worrying that I’m going to do something stupid and get fired here, too. Not that I’ve done much stupid on the job lately, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about it. (Is there anything which can stop me from worrying. Doubtful!)
I took this job because I needed a-job-any-job-yes-please-now-now-now. At first it was a stopgap, something to pay the bills while I found my way to a “real” job. Now I have certain responsibilities, I’ve finally seen a couple of raises, and things seem to be going well. Given the ridiculous debt load I’m carrying right now, at this point the best things that can happen are that I stay with this company and that the company remains robust and profitable, for at least the next… eight years or so.
Could be worse. As of a couple months ago I’m living close enough to the office to keep the commute down under an hour each way, and circumstances have aligned such that I can generally afford to pay bills and eat and so on. I’ll take it.