I work at a lucrative private firm downtown. (Well, relatively small- internationally we’re one of the biggest in the world, but my branch is small.) After a year of observation, I think I can safely conclude that what these guys do is… well… not really difficult. It may require some long hours (and about a million phone calls) put in, especially in those first few years, but ultimately, as long as you get someone (established) to take you under their wing, you’ve essentially got it made. The money is ridiculous, and for what? Convincing someone to let you draft the papers instead of somebody else (i.e., being a really good schmoozer.)
Yes, I’m over simplifying. But my point is, anyone with an IQ above average and a decent personality (see above: schmoozing) who didn’t mind making 100 cold calls a day for a couple years could absolutely kill it. Being a bartender (see above: schmoozing) and a strong, intelligent, independent woman who enjoys sports has all my bosses convinced that I would be a fabulous addition to their team, and they haven’t made it a secret that they’re grooming me for said position. Are they right? Yes, I feel fairly certain that I could be a kickass [insert my boss' job here]. I even started taking the classes, because who I am to turn down easy money? For the first couple months I debated; Do I want A) a career that I love, that wouldn’t pay nearly enough to support the lifestyle I want, or B) a job that is just a job, not good or bad, but pays extremely well?
After some deliberation, I decided on option B), or, “Work to Live.” I figured if I had enough money, and didn’t hate the office I worked in, I would be able to spend the exorbitant amounts of money on making the rest of my life amazing. I don’t necessarily disagree with this plan now, but there is one problem; one thing that nagged at me even as I declared my decision to my friends and family…
The only thing I’ve ever known I wanted to do in my life was travel.
And not just travel, but truly experience as many places in this world as I possibly can.
Yes, I would have the money to go away on incredible three-week jaunts to remote islands, maybe even a few months to tour Southeast Asia in my thirties, once I was established in my career. But because of the “clientele” aspect of the job, I would be required to make D.C. my home, at least for the next ten years.
I love D.C., I do. I’ve really enjoyed the past year and I look forward to the next one or two here as well. But I’m not done. I want to live on the west coast, in Colorado, in New York, in Miami, in London, in Paris. In Australia, Italy, Costa Rica, South America, and who knows where else. I just don’t think you can truly experience another place, another culture, unless you LIVE there. And I don’t want a job that limits me, that constricts me, from the one thing that I have always known I wanted to do.
So I might be an idiot. I know my father’s going to be devastated when I tell him this weekend (they went through some hard times after the dot.com crash, and I know he was thrilled to think that I had a life plan that would pretty much guarantee me financial security). But I can’t help it… I love traveling more than anything. It’s the reason I bartend twice a week until 3 in the morning on top of a normal job; it’s the reason I always have something to look forward to on the horizon; it’s the reason I feel like I am making the most of my life. Life is short, and possibly meaningless… but as long as I have a new place to go, a new culture to immerse myself in, and new relationships to create, I truly feel like I’m getting everything I can out of my pathetic little life.
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