By Olivia Newan
As a woman it’s this weird pressure you start getting from strangers. I turn 27 in September, and look at myself as pretty young (I mean, I’m not the clueless, flailing around 18–22 year old I once was but we can’t all, uh, stay there forever?). There’s this pressure from older generations to have a career now. Pensions…paying your dues.
Which is fine. It just so happens that the company I was hired for as my first “real job” was in an industry that was investigated by the FTC and the business I worked for itself is/was being audited by the FBI. My cue to exit stage left. Like, listen people, I tried.
Out of the entire 6 years this stupid business had been doingbusiness it happened to collapse within the first 3 months I was there. 60% of staff fired in the blink of an eye. My having to numbly process the exit paperwork of the people I was friendly with in the lunch area as I kept some loose tabs my team the day after…
The VP of the company just straight up left a week after me.
I was actually in the middle of getting them to be compliant on multiple fronts as an interdepartmental effort, and so a lot of my work was basically crumpled up and thrown in the garbage bin (well, don’t worry, I saved some for my work portfolio).
I worked, I over performed actually, and was very unhappy with my job for the long hours and the instabilities I had to fix in the company that were beyond the scope of my job description. I was reminded weekly (subtly) by my bosses that I was potentially going to be replaced and that I wasn’t doing enough. I was underpaid.
I tried to keep a stoic face for the dept I was the Head of while still keeping them informed of the state of affairs I’d picked up on. It’s no mistake our most talented coder left the day I did, though.
Now I’m changing my career path again. Like, cut me a break! What the f**k else was/am I supposed to do?! I can’t go into business again: it’s exhausting and repetitive. I do not want children, and I know those UV rays are cooking my eggs to hard-boiled at this point which is fine because I’m not going to get my eggs frozen.
“What are you going to do now?” “What’s the next step?” Well, gee, is there a roadmap for when you quit a job from a company that’s getting audited by the FBI (and what work experience you’d have gotten would’ve been tainted/garbage regardless)? What does that say? Pray tell.
It’s as if, because I’m approaching the limit of 30 as a viable dating and baby-making option, people are putting more and more pressure on me To Do Something. Which I’ve BEEN DOING. But welcome to my life…