Today I refused the first real job offer I've ever gotten! I can't believe I had the guts to do it!
Essentially, I realized that in spite of a fancy job title, the actual responsibilities were way limited, and the chance for it to turn into something positive for my architecture career was even more limited. I was so blinded by desperation and an overwhelming desire to get my life started already that I overlooked some serious flaws in the position and company. Wow, I learned so much through the process though, and I am seriously years older mentally as a result.
There were three last nails in the coffin that caused me to slam the door on this opportunity:
1. President essentially told me (in direct opposition to what the interviewer said) that others had held this job for 3 weeks and left because it wasn't what they expected...Whaaaaaa??? Are you telling me I'm going to hate this job??
2. I walked around the office and saw my computer--it was older than I am! And I was straight up told I'd mostly be filing papers. Unh-unh.
3. The manager showed me some architectural drawings to show me how this "really is related to architecture." As soon as I saw those drawings, my heart leapt into my throat and I thought of all the ways that I could envision that space, wondered where the windows were, how the plan could be cut to make a more beautiful, functional place.
I tried to ask some questions, but my mind was racing. I didn't need any more information! I didn't need to ask the people in the office if they liked working in this company (as the President suggested I do). I knew that I would hate it there! I knew my ideas would be worthless, my point of view wouldn't matter!
The interviewer left me in the conference room and I stared out the glass doors. I stood up exceptionally slowly. My eyes glazed over, I walked out out out of the building door by door. I walked down the street at a snail's pace, my ears buzzing. I walked past a beautiful park, a statue in the center of it, past benches. I felt physical pain at the thought of accepting this job. I want to be a designer! That is all I can be! That is all I ever want to be! I can take the abuse.
I want to be a maker of places, like this amazing city. I don't want to sit behind a desk and shuffle papers around or be a messenger! I have so much to offer, please architecture world, all you have to do is offer me a job and let me show you what I can do! A job is not so hard to find. No. "A good job is hard to find"
Driving home, I sobbed like a baby. What was I thinking; why was I even considering this position? Yes, the location was amazing, the pay was OK. The prospect of being near friends was incredibly tempting. But I studied what I loooooooooove in order to do what I love, not to be a paper pushing, phone answering, email writing zombie. I realized that not everyone is so fortunate as to know what makes them leap for joy in their work, what inspires them to work hard, what they want their life to look life in 3, 5, 15 years. But I have much more than an inkling.
I screamed and cried all the way through all the traffic. I was like a madwoman, really. And I wondered and wondered whether this was a breakdown caused by fear of change, of the unknown, but I knew better Deep down. "I'm a poet, I'm an artist, I'm an architect, I am not your cute, cheerful office slave!" I screamed it through tears. Then I started singing that Polar Express song, "we were...dreamers...not so long agooo (like in May, on graduation day, how big did the world and the possibilities seem then?) *sniffle* but one by one...we *sniffle* sob * sob * all had to grow up..."
I guess I can be a little bit dramatic. Hahaha... Ok, I am suuuper dramatic ultra Drama Queen!
When I stopped at the Subway to get my late lunch, I made a point of being Miss Supreme Positive. Joking with the sandwich maker and smiling and laughing and being my general normal self when I am not crazy. It instantly improved my mood!
Dear Lord, you know how hard I worked as a student. You know about my sleepless nights. My no fun Fridays, my consistently at church Sundays (usually!!). Please, God, I know you love me better than this! I trust you, Lord, that there is something better on the way. I have full faith.
