I went to the library for the first time in forever on Saturday so I could retrieve my resume from the stupid diskette it was last saved on five years ago. Jon and I had decided that I would try and find a part-time job from home so we could cushion our savings before we (really, truly) move next year. And conveniently, one of the easiest fields in which to telecommute is in editing/technical writing/proofreading etc. All of which my resume is filled with. Unfortunately, the thought of doing any of those things gives me the shakes.

I’ve joked about this before, but I am a total and complete fraud. I literally have no idea how I managed to skate through undetected all those years. I used to have nightmares (not unlike Princess Buttercup with the booing old woman) about my bosses barrelling around the corner to my cube with their fingers pointed, screaming “We figured you out! You don’t know ANYTHING about FrameMaker! What’s a gerund? How do you tabulate in Word? Make me a spreadsheet!” My stomach clenches just thinking about it.

It’s probable you’re wondering why I got into the field if I don’t like it. Well, I struggled for lots o’ reasons in college, some my own issues and many that weren’t. I was probably too young and poor to attempt anything so costly at the time, but c’est la vie. And I hemmed and hawed my way through, never really knowing what I wanted to do, and finally ended up in English Lit because I love to read and most of my electives were already within the major. And in fairness to our school and all those out there who are English majors: I didn’t and don’t think it’s just an easy out. I know there’s a bias against liberal arts, but personally I think that’s crap, since I know a lot of engineers who are just number crunchers but not thinkers, yet they get lauded for building things that work. Bah.

Anyway, I picked this major, did a mediocre job, and got an internship with a company at which my friend worked as a tech writer. I knew I didn’t want to teach, and my fleeting thought about continuing on past undergrad for etymology was squashed when my guidance counselor patted my hand and told me not everyone was meant for grad school. Wench. What she should have said was that if I wanted in I’d have to get off my ass and try, but I digress.

So then I started writing for the campus paper (because Jon was the Sports editor) and interning as another tech writer (at my mother’s company), all while careening towards the end with no idea what in the hell I would do. But tech writing can pay pretty well, honestly, so I gradumucated and got a job. I hated it, quit, and got a different contract job. Then I had Jack and never looked back. And really, it began and continued because of connections. People put their names on the line for me, and I hate thinking that I did substandard work. Or maybe everyone does somewhat substandard work, but I didn’t know that b/c I was too busy scraping by.

The only thing I’ve ever enjoyed is writing. I didn’t do a poor job when writing articles for the Collegian, but I could never be an unbiased journalist. I would love to write a column somewhere, unfortunately however, columnists are like sports writers: they are there until they die. Unless they are Steve Rushin, in which case they leave because they are too good for Sports Illustrated – the same magazine that will employ that piece of crap Rick Reilly – and then are never heard from again, which makes the rest of us still forced to read that crappy Reilly sad. (Oh, that was wayyy digressive, and probably a run-on. I’m sorry.)

And I’m not really looking for suggestions on what job I can find or what I should do based on my passions, I’m just admitting my fear about getting back into the job market. I think in the future my resume will be geared for a WHOLE different field, and this won’t be an issue. But I feel so insecure thinking about trying to pose as a tech writer, when I’d rather be a lactation consultant or an anti-vaccination lobbyist. Something that interests me and I know I’d be good at.

Wish me luck. And let me know if you know anyone who wants to pay me to talk about homebirth or autism. πŸ˜‰

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