Hope springs eternal. That's one of those sayings I'm always quoting without having the least idea of its origins. In this case, the irony applies to me, for I am incapable of walking away from certain situations even though I've gotten burned in the past. Bad boyfriends? Pshaw, get away from me. User/loser friends? No way, they make that first big mistake and they're history. Bad jobs? Helloooooooo, Nurse!
In all fairness, my jobs haven't been so much the problem as the companies I've worked for. Well, that, and the fact that I have no spine when it comes to taking jobs. Offer it to me, I'll take it. I can think of maybe two jobs I've actually turned down in about 20 years of working. I'm a fool for a paycheck. I haven't got the nerve or the foresight to say a job isn't right for me.
A mere month ago, I finally walked away from a position with an agency where I'd been for three and a half years. I was so stressed that I seriously considered the possibility that I was having a nervous breakdown. I wasn't happy about working for a conglomerate at all. Solving problems seemed to take at least three phonecalls and 12 faxes, plus promising the client things would be straightened out real soon now far too many times. That's the kind of thing I wanted to avoid when I changed careers from being a paralegal to being a travel agent.
Last year, after attempting to get out from under the corporate thumb by going independent, I was lured back to a full time temporary position which threatened to turn into a permanent thing. Despite having left a salaried job with them previously, I couldn't say no when they asked me to work the summer months, just to help out while they searched for a replacement. Summer stretched into autumn, and by December I had to make a choice: commit or die. No, no. Commit to full time or, well, quit. So I quit. I vowed I had learned from my summer experience. No more going back, no more dealing with accounting departments in other states, no more company mission statements.
Yesterday, the head of the travel school phoned. Would I be interested in substitute teaching? I heard myself say yes. Would I be interested in discussing maybe doing more? I heard myself say yes again. I hung up thinking two things: I am a fool, and I never learn. Sure, it's not the same company, but it's in the same building and it used to be the same company. True, it's teaching the Sabre database, not selling travel. And in fact, I like teaching travel; I taught for them before and had a ball. But it's the same old Pavlovian response mechanism. They called, they offered, I accepted. Because gee, maybe this time it'll be different.
Hope springs eternal. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. And I'll never be able to walk away from a job. I hope I retire some day. But I'm beginning to have my doubts.