Some like it hot (my job and aging)

When I was in my twenties and early thirties, my management style at work came easily. I was friendly and encouraging, smiling and pleasant. I didn’t realize then how much I relied on “sexuality” to motivate and manipulate. At the time I believed that it was my positive and fair outlook. Only when I reached my late thirties did I see this method of management begin to fail and I was left floundering having never developed other tools on which to rely. Suddenly my bright smile and glowing eyes were not enough reward for my subordinates.

This is not to say that I was particularly gorgeous… but I was young, and pretty enough. I thought this motivational tactic was the birthright of women… I now realize it’s the birthright of young women. Nobody warned me that it would wear off. Nobody taught me other ways to operate.

I find no professional benefit to my age. Perhaps the early thirties are the best professional years… young enough to motivate, old enough to be respected. At forty-five I’m not as quick or energetic as I was. And I find my dedication waning as I want to have more to life than just this.

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The 1999 Saga… SOME LIKE IT HOT!

(also entitled My Switch from Misery To Coffee…)

In February of 1999 I marked my twentieth anniversary at work. I also gave notice to pursue a MUCH lower paying, MUCH more satisfying job as barista at Starbucks. This was a daring thing to do, but something many folks have said they wish they’d do. So far it has turned out great. I’ve been there for over a year and a half. Promoted to the grand position of Shift Supervisor, I feel like I’m playing store when I go to work. Making this switch was the smartest but one of the scariest things I’d ever done. Moving to part time made me completely reliant upon my husband and, although, we had been married almost fifteen years at the time, I had always made my share of the money. There’s a certain security in knowing that you could leave at any time and are not monetarily dependent upon a person. Conversely, there’s a certain panic you experience when you’re my age and give up that financial independence.

There were a lot of reasons I gave it up, it wasn’t just because of the dissatisfaction I felt growing. Much of the reason is that our little boy is a juvenile (type I) diabetic. When I had been working in a branch office close to his school, I felt somewhat comfortable, but then management all got transferred to the main office which was a 50 minute commute for me. Along with this, we were with the sharks… terrible terrible people who were all wrapped up in company politics, sex, and degradation. If I recounted the whole story here, you probably wouldn’t even believe it, but maybe someday I will anyway.

At any rate, being a part time worker allowed me to be closer to my boy as well as take him out of afterschool daycare. This transition also immensely improved his and my relationship which was somewhat tough because it is hard for me to understand and get into “boy things” sometimes. Now we’re very close and all of us are extremely happy, but we’re also $$ constrained which is tough.

At least now, though, I feel like I won’t go to my grave feeling as if I had to be a drone ’til my death. I feel, now, like I’m truly living.