I was talking to my family the other day and somehow the subject of early jobs came up. I talked about my first real job in a record store.
Good Lord, I LOVED that job. I got to work with music all day and I was friends with all my co-workers. We laughed and teased and joked all day and it was so much fun that it seemed wrong to get paid at the end of the week.
And yet …
Within a few months, I was pushing for a promotion into store management. There were no women in management at that time an it seemed very important to my 22-year old self that I wasn’t stuck being ‘just’ a sales assistant. I needed to break the glass ceiling.
So I did.
And then I got a “better” job and a “better” one after that, because I kept pushing and kept shattering glass, and finally I sat at a big shiny boardroom table as one of the most senior people in my company and at some point I realized that I wasn’t happy – that actually, I hadn’t been happy since that leaving that amazing, fun job as a sales assistant.
Now, as I look back on that time, I realize that this is a consistent trait of mine. Whatever I have, whatever is happening, it’s never what I want. I can always see how it could be better, or how I could be better. And so I keep striving. But for what?
Where am I going that’s any better than where I already am?