Today is my second anniversary at my current employer.
Missing was the congratulatory handshake, confetti, and cookie cake. In my time here I’ve had four bosses, three different job titles, and two cubicle moves.
I’ve managed to accumulate the best keyboard, the most impressive rubber band ball on the floor, and a sample award from the marketing department (pictured above).
Our coffee has recently been upgraded to a brand called Highland Estates, and we even have a new machine, imaginatively named the Cream n’ Sugar dispenser, that provides dehydrated cappuccino and hot chocolate.
Given the current circumstances, I’m happy to be spending my days reclining at various levels in my lumbar supported computer chair. I keep busy, and have gained a marginal amount of respect from my peers.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I was growing up, but it didn't involve the words auto insurance. Still, by all conventional measures, I’m doing well for a 25-year-old.
As I spend more time considering my next career move, my dad is consistently surprised. He doesn’t understand why I would ever leave a highly paid job with room for advancement.
He spent 30 years working his way up the corporate ladder at Hormel, and in time a job changed from a means to an end to an obsession. This isn’t even a joke, he is passionate about meat.
It’s not a new story, but things don’t work like that anymore. In part corporations have dictated the public’s current job-hopping tendencies, but I think the biggest reason is a unparalleled sense of entitlement. An entitlement that we cultivated as we were raised by the wealthiest generation in the history of the world.
I don’t mean to say that I’m not willing to work hard, but I might be reaching for something that doesn’t exist in the first place.
I was told I can do whatever I set my mind to … to follow my dreams. But we can’t all be astronauts, presidents, and firefighters.
Does entitlement enable us for greatness, or send us on a path to despair?