the perfect job

What is the definition of a perfect job?

They say it's when you do what you love for a living, and it no longer seems like work, but all fun.

Nice answer when you're being interviewed for a job, when you're twenty-two, fresh from college, and the goals in life include getting a studio-type condominium unit and summer vacations in Boracay to improve your lovelife.

But when you're in your mid-thirties, with children in school, a mortgage on the house and a car loan, a perfect job is the one that gives you payday-to-payday assurance that the bills will be paid, that the cat has cat food and the dog has dog food, the twelve-year-old goes to her field trip and gets new eyeglasses, and that there's always toothpaste in the bathroom.  You don't say that the perfect job is the one that allows you to fight poverty in the Asian region.

I used to say that I loved working in the university because it gave me a chance to make a difference.  Every day, I helped solve little problems, and what I did made an impact on the well-being of the student and the people around me.  The sense of accomplishment is immediate, and I felt good about what I was doing.  I see Jabez on Facebook these days and remember that eight, ten years ago he was doing Approj in a blue uniform, and now he's a college instructor, and I'm still proud of him.

It's a different thing when you're in the corporate world.  My official position title now is Senior Treasury Assistant.  Most days I am simply a highly-paid secretary.  It's not exactly what I wrote in the slam books when I was younger, in the blank for 'What's your ambition?' I dreamt of writing for a living.

Don't get me wrong, I am proud of what I am doing.  My job is the reason why we have the house, the car, the children in private schools, the tablet, the five-inch-heels.  There are times when it feels like logging 87 documents in a single day is a thankless task, but you learn to look at it as increasing your typing speed to 80 wpm, and not as the beginning of carpal tunnel syndrome.

It's not exactly 'writing for a living.'  A couple of months ago, the only significant writing I got done was panel minutes.  These days, it's minutes of meetings. But when you can't do what you like, it's time to start liking what you do.  There is something good in every little thing, no matter how insignificant it may seem at the moment.  There is something to learn in the mindless little tasks, no matter how small you may seem in the scheme of things.

I don't see myself sitting in front of a 17-inch HP monitor for the next 23 years.  I have not decided what I want to be when I grow up.  But you see, when you're older (and hopefully wiser), you learn that whatever you do for a living, it becomes a perfect job when you give it your best, every day.

And well, if I want to write, I can always blog.  :-)