In this economy having a job is a blessing. No matter what type of job it is we have to thank the Lord that we have some type of income coming in. With that being said, why do are we so grateful, but yet so miserable at the same time? I’ve heard so many people say “I can’t stand this place anymore, but I shouldn’t complain because at least I got something”. There are some places that make it unbearable to even step foot in the building. Every time you do you get a sour look on your face and anyone that thinks of asking you a stupid ass question automatically moves to #1 on your shit list. Everyone says you should make a career out of what you love to do, but what happens when your dead end JOB drains the passion out of you?

As you guys can see writing is my passion. I’ve been writing since I was 12 years old. It’s something I want to do. Growing up I wanted to be an author and write novels about relationships and sexy shit. As I got older it seemed that doing what I really wanted to do seemed far fetched, but I still had the passion. Although writing was something that fueled me I had to be realistic and I realized my passion will have to wait, because I needed to eat. I had jobs but never really fixated on a big career in corporate America. The more jobs I had the less I wrote. There were some places that just drained the life out of me. One time I literally cried when I got to work because I knew I didn’t want to be there. I felt stuck in my reality. I felt like I would never get the career I wanted because the job I had was leaving me so unfulfilled. I would see people give up their 9-5 to pursue what they wanted to do, but because I was afraid I didn’t do it for fear of  failure. I felt that staying where I didn’t want to stay was safer than going where I wanted to go. That didn’t sound like much logic to some, but I was afraid of the unknown. I was too afraid to fail.

Now, the way I wrote that last paragraph it would seem like I took the bull by the horns and did what I ultimately wanted to do. *Sigh* I get up at 5am to go into a company and punch some numbers that I don’t really give a f*ck about. Deal with co-workers that piss me off, and drive a damn commute that makes me wanna randomly shoot motherf*ckers in their cars. I feel like a slave to my job. I always felt doing what makes you happy should be something everyone should strive for, but when it comes to this I feel like my hands are tied. I can’t sit here and tell you guys to go after shit, when I’m not doing it myself. Maybe one day I will get where I wanna go. As of right now I’m a slave to a dead end job.

Oh, but thank God I have one.