When I plan a vacation I have a tendency to go for locations that have good watering holes rather than, ya know, scenery or something. My husband likes to constantly make the joke, “As long as it’s a craft beer you’re drinking, it’s a hobby, not a problem.” I’ve probably heard that joke enough that it’s become my truth. I don’t need to drink to function, but it is my favorite hobby.
#Crack open a cold one bottle cracked#
Now, I don’t mean I need to drink, as in, woke up this morning and cracked open a cold one. I had to think to myself, what am I good at? What do I even like to do? Am I actually passionate about anything? Well, it came as a harsh truth, but I love to drink. Now, I’m sure you know where I’m going with this. Finally, I thought back to the last path I took that made me feel anything. It was one of the few things that helped me out of my funk. Seriously, any picture you’ll find of myself is most likely to have a drink in my hand. I tried to learn a new hobby, the ukulele, (I’m truly awful). I looked into moving but remembered that I’m not the breadwinner in my family (Hubby is an engineer). Except for an industry that I no longer want to be a part of. I looked into new jobs, but I have no experience. I tried a new project at my house, a she-shed, thinking maybe a new room would serve as enough as an escape. I started a reading challenge – hoping someone else’s adventures would sate me.
I’ve tried a lot of things this year to try and give myself meaning. I live in the Midwest, far away from mountains, oceans, or anything cool to look at. I don’t want the steady hours and the decent paycheck.
I don’t want to move up the corporate ladder. I just know that this can’t be it for me. I love the people I work with and I very rarely have to talk to the actual guests. It should be perfect – good pay, great hours (for a restaurant), and decent benefits. Currently I’m working at a major restaurant chain as a kitchen manager. I’m one bad day away from quitting my job and packing all my shit up. Yet, here I am a year and a half later with no actual clue. I thought I knew what I wanted, a big girl job with great hours and pay. I graduated in October of 2017 and I thought that was it. Instead, I settled for something practical… business. Occasionally I doll myself up before drinking.įor a lot of different reasons, I had stopped going to school for the degree I wanted – creative writing. I couldn’t keep following someone else’s dream – I needed my own. I wasn’t even sure I could make it to the opening date. Finally, I realized this wasn’t my five year plan. Yet, as the year wrapped up and as the opening date kept getting pushed back – along with other problems. I had a new five year plan run this business, open other locations, make it a global name, and then set off and find something that I was passionate about. I saw the passion that my boss had behind what we were doing and I was in awe. It was what I was used to doing but also different enough to be interesting. Recently, I was slated to help open a new restaurant and I was excited about the opportunity. I can’t stand the phrase “the customer is always right” because they rarely are. Now that may seem harsh, but you probably haven’t worked in customer service then. Eventually, I realized that I, in fact, hate people. Instead, I took a job at McDonald’s when I was 15 and every job I’ve had since has been in a restaurant or customer service related. The curse of the Millennial- our parents told us we could be whatever we wanted, but that wasn’t very practical advice. This can’t possibly be all that I’m meant to do. I’ve been wandering through life looking for a purpose. I’ve spent nearly thirty years on this earth and yet I feel like I haven’t really lived. Suffers from severe wanderlust that can only be cured by traveling and drinking along the way. Desi rey: a 28-year old from the Midwest with the mouth of a New-Yorker.
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