First - since the bulk of the emails I've received from my last post are of the "No, seriously, this time it's not you who is the asshole," variety, I'm opening up comments. Do not make me regret it.
Speaking of mail, I've gotten a ton of notes lately from people in their early 20's seeking advice on how to get away from their oppressive corporate jobs and do something fun, meaningful, creative, and, of course, lucrative.
Kids? Here's my advice for you.
PAY YOUR FUCKING DUES.
Don't get me wrong, I understand how awful it feels being at the bottom of the corporate totem pole. Going from the college world of sleeping 'til 2:00 PM and wearing pajamas to class to waking your ass up at 5:30 AM to get on the train to catch the bus to then catch the second bus (because you're too broke to cab it) to then walk six blocks in uncomfortable shoes in order to get to a soul-sucking job where they talk to you like you're a slowpoke is no one's idea of a good time.
Not only does every shit alphabetizing and stapling project land in your in-box, but you're the one most likely to be volunteered to clean hairy food out of the shared refrigerator. It's you who has to take over the reception desk for Margie, the union employee who makes twice what you do, when she has a doctor's appointment. No one listens to your ideas and if you dare to complain, the old-timers will cock their eyebrows and tell you, "Kid, you don't know how easy you have it," before launching into an esoteric, protracted tale having something to do with Life Before the Fax Machine. (Which is bullshit because at least they used to get to have cocktails at lunch.) ('Cause it's barely considered work if you get to be drunk while you're doing it.) (Plus, they could smoke at their desks without it being considered a hate crime.)
Doing an entry level job is a lot like the hazing you receive as a pledge, except your superiors don't even do beer bongs with you afterward. But here's the thing - you HAVE to go through this in order to figure out where you want to be next. The mere fact you're asking me how to extricate yourselves from this situation tells me you have not suffered enough.
Trust me, when you reach your breaking point, your next move will be crystal clear. And maybe that will be off the corporate ladder. Maybe it will be up. Maybe it will be around. But no one's going to know how you should proceed but you.
(Related story? Fletch had his existential, angst-y, I-can't-stand-corporate-America moment about eleven years ago and he quit his entry level position administering employee benefits, opting to work as a bartender/bouncer. Sure, he got to sleep 'til 2:00 PM again but he also had to wrestle both homeless guys who were peeing on the plate glass window of the bar and his bosses who were not only coked out of their minds but also heavily armed. Two months into his tenure, the idea of health insurance, paid vacation, and wearing a tie to work were a lot less offensive.)
* * * * *
Anyway, I'm really, really going back to my edits now. 'Til I'm done (or sufficiently angry again) please visit Jess Riley's blog. I'm reading an advance copy of her novel Riding with Larry Resnick coming out next summer and have to say there's something terribly, magnificently wrong with this girl. I apologize for getting you psyched for a book that won't be out for another year, but she may well be my new favorite writer. Also, the word you WILL steal from her is "shittacular." (Please remember to give proper credit.)
Finally, since some of your notes specifically asked for recommendations, check out the following stuff I completely dig and in no way am being compensated for:
Monogram Marketplace - They sell the cutest Preppy t-shirts to ever exist. Skulls, crossbones, and monograms? Oh, HELL YES.
Philip B. - Ridiculously expensive beauty products I purchased solely because they were on the super-slash-extra-biggie markdown table at Ulta 3. Am in serious trouble when I run out of all the sale priced bottles of White Truffle Oil shampoo I grabbed. A black tar heroin addiction would be cheaper, yet the draw of soft, shiny, non-flammable colored hair is strong. Also, the Nordic Wood product is like washing yourself with Christmas. I'd give it two big holiday thumbs up except I'm driving myself crazy by inadvertently singing Norwegian Wood in the shower every time I use it, so it only gets one and a half thumbs.
Shoes, Betches - Not sure if the leopard style is only available online, but that's where I ordered mine. They are 10,000 times cuter in 3D and fairly comfortable, too. Be sure to page through Target's selection of heeled Mary Janes. They aren't a perfect Manolo knock-off, but they are $535 cheaper and that has to count for something.
Back to work now... for ALL of us.
P.S. Twenty-somethings? Keep at it and the uncomfortable shoes you're wearing to work could be the Manolos.
P.P.S. I just found these! You could pay $630 more for the little bow on the Manolo version. And if you have this kind of cash to throw around, perhaps you'd also like to help me pay off one of my lower-balance credit cards.



















