I guess I've fulfilled my own prophecy...time to get some skills


My wheel of my bike stops spinning at the midpoint of my commute and I am forced to carry the thing for fifteen minutes and shove it, and me, onto the crowded rush hour L train. I am fifteen minutes late and I don't want to be in conversation with my boss for the amount of time it will take to explain why. He glares at me. I glare at him. He throws thing at my desk. He sends passive aggressive e-mails. I send one word replies.  I am at an impasse. My hatred of my job has turned into my boss's hatred for me.


Well, I brought it upon myself. A job I disliked because it was boring and inside and sometimes a little demeaning has become a job I hate because I am uncomfortable every moment that  I am at my desk. So now what? Get the union involved? Too messy. I'm not 35 and trying to support a child. I pay $400/month for rent and live pretty cheaply. I don't need to ensure my place in a hostile work environment to support myself.


But, as much as I have told myself that I am above this job, I am not above it at all. I have a Liberal Arts degree. McSweeney's, in their normal mocking tone, published a good humor piece today about what that boils down to: nothing. Though this is not exactly news to anyone, McSweeney's tends to remind me of  my plight in new and interesting ways on a daily basis.


Now that it dawns on me that I pretty much must quit my job, I am beginning to think of how nice and easy it has been to have a steady paycheck and health insurance and how struggling again will be so much less comfortable. I've applied everywhere and for everything, gotten a few freelance writing gigs that will throw me some peanuts and have been getting delivery shifts. I can make it work--but I can't do it forever.


So, it's time to acquire some skills. I don't think I could even get a job as a barista. A CUNY school for some computer science classes seems like a good call. Here's hoping...