I've been thinking a lot lately. About my wedding and my relationships with my friends, and yes, even about how hilarious the new Big Bang Theory is. But what is ALWAYS in the back of my mind, simmering back there with the money issues and how much I want a dog, is what I want to do with my life. Every once in a while, it boils over and floods my brain with such extreme worry that it borders on anxiety, my shoulders tense up without me realizing it and suddenly I can't sleep at night, whether I'm being kept up by my thoughts or having vivid, distracting and disturbing dreams.
That's how my week has been.
It's not that I hate my job. If I get right down to it, I am thankful for my job. My schedule is such that I never rush to work. I work during the hours that I am naturally most awake and I get to flex creative muscles by designing pages and writing headlines. And I get paid and have benefits. I think I'd be in worse shape if I didn't have these factors in my favor.
But I still feel lost. I'm not doing what I always thought I'd be doing (writing) and I just feel like something is missing. I don't dislike my coworkers, but I'm not friends with any of them. And, I suppose, I don't feel like what I'm doing makes any meaningful difference.
All this comes together to make me consider abandoning journalism for a different field. I discovered a Web site where you can search for openings at nonprofits, and many of these organizations need people with my set of skills to come and widen their exposure to the public. I am beginning to feel that old excitement, of contemplating the possibility of changing my life for the better. I spend 8 hours a day at the workplace, I need to justify those hours doing something that I believe in. It's sad, but I have finally admitted to myself that I just don't believe in journalism anymore.