by Samantha
I’m not sure what is more monumental: landing your first ‘real world’ job or getting fired from your first ‘real world’ job, especially when the latter came only ten days after the former. Like a slowly disintegrating long term relationship, the writing was on the wall. I disliked the work, the commute, and half the people in the wee 7 person office. But like a break-up, the reality of being fired/leaving your job doesn’t crash in on you until after the fact. They were paying me to be miserable. That’s something, right? And the fact that I landed the job in the first place, when everyone told me that I was too ‘junior’ for the role (do they tell you if you’re too senior?) made me falsely secure. How hard could Quick Books be? I thought; who cares if it takes over an hour to get home? They’re paying more than I’ve ever been paid! But it’s never about money, is it?

Whilst sipping blissfully strong martinis with friends last month, the topic of payment for sexually entertaining rich businessmen arose (yea, we’re a quirky bunch). How much is appropriate for such an indecent proposal? Everyone at the table agreed to compromise their good suburban values for considerably less than Robert Redford’s $1 million. Everyone winces at the idea of selling her body for money, but what about selling your happiness? How much would it take to stay in a mind-numbing, tear-inducing job? To that end, how much would it take to stay in a mind-numbing, tear-inducing relationship? Ten days or three years, I’m not for sale.

Just as I was infatuated with my first boyfriend, I was delighted with the thought that I was not going to be relegated to the masses of new grads who couldn’t find a real ‘thinking’ job. But how delight sours. Ayn Rand (The Fountainhead) makes a bold statement when she writes ‘I always thought that a feeling which changes never existed in the first place.’ It’s easy to right off the wrong job, but relationships are much harder to dismiss. Maybe a more modern pop philosopher has it right: You never were and you never will be mine. While success is always celebrated, I’m choosing to acknowledge failure, which is really a great pair of shoes in an ugly box. And cliché or not, without it, success would be undetectable. So ladies, here’s to living, learning and having the courage to do it all over again.