I do not dream of labor

There’s a quote that goes something like, “I don’t have a dream job. I do not dream of labor.” I can’t find the original source, but I’d love to know. In any case, I appreciate the sentiment even though in some ways I have had a few “dream jobs,” including my current one. It was an educational journey to get there, though.

There was this short-lived TV show called Quarterlife that was on when I was the correct age for it. It might have been a MySpace TV series. Was that a thing? Am I making this up? Anyway, it was bad, but I was feeling my own quarterlife crisis pretty hard and I watched the first episode with interest. Our hero was an early-20s woman working in some low-level position at a women’s magazine, and that’s where it lost me.

I would have KILLED for a shitty entry-level job at a magazine. I was working a clerical job at a disability insurance company and in hindsight, it was *fine*, as jobs go. But I had a big ol’ chip on my shoulder about how I, with my equestrian science degree (and all-important journalism minor), was so above it. I was embarrassed when people asked what I did for a living.

To be fair, we do live in a society that ties an undue amount of our identity to our job, so I get why I was like that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I would like to go back and smack 25-year-old me across the face and say, “Yes, this job is easy and boring. But that means you should get your work done brilliantly in no time and then forget about it until the next day. That leaves you all kinds of time to ride your horse or build a freelance career. But instead you drag your feet all day and feel bad for yourself. It’s stupid. Better things will come. But for now, be a grown up and do the best you can with what you’ve got.”

I did eventually leave that job, taking a pay cut and moving 1,000 miles away for an entry-level job at a horse magazine. That job had its ups and downs for sure, but at least I was in a role that matched my skills and interests. I was much happier with my working life. I was there for about eight years before I got laid off in late 2016.

When I think back on the era of my life after that layoff, I feel weirdly nostalgic. I ended up working very part-time at the barn for about a year and a half before I was hired back full-time in my old position under a new parent company. I was mostly working in exchange for riding lessons, which was possible only because I had some financial safety nets: My old job had kept me on as a part-time contractor, and I was in a cohabitating relationship with a dude who was gainfully employed. That low-level barn job was a privilege. But I really loved it. I do remember feeling some shame and frustration around my fruitless search for a new “real” job during that time, but overall I think 2017 might be the most content I’ve ever been in my adult life.

Working at the barn meant I was outside, surrounded by horses, and constantly busy. There was no time to idly doomscroll (remember 2017? There was a lot to doomscroll about.) The pony wrangling, grooming, and everyday barn maintenance of this job was physical, which meant I was getting plenty of exercise, but not physically demanding in a way that breaks your body down. I liked everyone I worked with, and had pleasant interactions with the lesson riders and boarders who came through during the day. And there is no better feeling in the world than coming home to a hot shower after evening barn chores on a cold winter night.

I really like the job I have now. It’s relevant to my skills and interests. It feels like a step up in responsibility from my previous roles without being too stressful (usually.) I feel like I’m compensated fairly. I hope to stay in this role for a long time, and I genuinely want to continue to get better at it.

That said, if the economy worked in a way where you didn’t have to consider your paycheck when choosing a career? I would be a barn brat. I’d write and take photos as a hobby or a side gig, I think, but if I could spend my workdays caring for a herd of lesson horses and their habitat and not be under financial stress to do it, I would jump on it.

Maybe we’ll get universal health care and basic income in my working lifetime and I can make good on this, but it’s unlikely. So I’ll just be glad that I had the confluence of circumstances that I did in 2017 so I could live that life, even if just for a short while.