Why I don’t like working 9-5 | Essay

It’s been approximately three weeks since I started my new, full-time office job. As I secretly suspected but hoped against, I’m working outside of my degree’s field – in logistics. I’m still learning the ropes and I feel on par with the co-op students and even the one high-school co-op kid who happens to be a manager’s son. I’m just doing small stuff – I’m still waiting on my trainer to fully “train” me.

I’m a complainer. It’s what I naturally do. That doesn’t mean I don’t like this job. I appreciate how it’s easy to learn and understand, how it’s rather lax and the people are nice but not overly sensitive so my humour fits in. I like how my boss is away every other week (because she commutes from another city) so I can do whatever when I have nothing to do.

I like how I can listen to music while doing tedious stuff. I like how I have an hour lunch break. I like how it’s a small responsibility job and I can always turn to my trainer to clean up any possible mess (not that I’ve created any thus far).

But it’s not all roses.

I’ve gone 16 some odd years of schooling. Back in those beauty days of grade school, you got up early but you were back home by 3pm. Then the glory days of university opened me up to lax schedules, night classes, and the luxury of having Fridays off.

It’s hard to go from that lifestyle to the rigid schedule of 9-5 office life. It’s rather depressing knowing that five days of the week are near identical.

Wake up at 7am. Be at work by 9am. Have a lunch break around 12pm. Leave by 5pm. Get home after 6pm. Be in bed around 11:30pm. Repeat Monday to Friday.

I am somewhat lucky. I get a pretty fair salary for the lackluster work I do – with benefits on route in three months. I leave early more often than not, because by 4pm there’s nothing left for me to do.

But that doesn’t change the fact I’m in front of a computer for nearly seven hours a day. I don’t like that.

AND it’s summer, so I’m miss out on beautiful weather I could be tanning in.

At least when I was unemployed, I could do whatever I wanted whatever time of the day. I liked going to the gym around 1pm. I liked running chores during the day. My mother and I would go to a matinee movie on Tuesday for cheap. What do I have now?

Money, I suppose. Something to put on my resume. Stuff to do instead of watching Youtube videos all day.

But, as Petey from Steven Universe said, “You work away your life and what does it get you? … Cash. Cash that can’t buy back what the job takes.”

Too real Petey. Too real.

Thankfully my job isn’t so depressing. I’m not in a call centre or working in retail. I’m not a poor kid in Africa digging up blood diamonds or a mother of three in China sowing together XXL jeans. I’m privileged and I know that.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like the concept of my job.

Being there, I have the realization that “this is it; this is my next forty years.” Working 9-5, in front of computer, doing shit in excel and sending emails. What kind of life is that?

Not for me man, I’d go crazy before I hit 25.

Right now, I’m working on short term goals: saving up money and learning new skills. If I’m lucky enough, maybe I’ll be in the JET program. If not, I plan to move to Montreal and find a full-time job.

It’s easy to be fooled in our society today – that getting a degree means working a nice job in what you want to do. As I was once told 60+% of people work outside their field (makes sense to me since I doubt my graduating Psychology class are all on their way to PhD’s and counseling jobs).

Hell, even my parents are miles away from their degrees. One has an engineering degree and works in Operations at a medical supply company. The other (now retired), has a MA in sports administration and worked her last ten years at a genetics research crown company.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, 9-5 isn’t for me, but it’s what I got and I’m going to use it to get what I want.


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