Workin' 9 to 5

This is the story of how Kathryn – sorta – got her groove back.  I’ve never worked for a company that had much more than 1,000 employees, so imagine my cultural shock working at an organization that has just shy of 30,000.  There is a cafeteria!  Omlettes and pancakes to order after the morning commute!  A gym!  (With laundry service no less!)  I work in a skyscraper!  (Well – a Philly skyscraper so let’s not get too excited.)  My cube has tons of space and even a visitor’s chair and a coat closet.  A coat closet in a cubicle, I say!  I have a window view (never mind my view is directly into another skyscraper and I have to turn around to see it, but I get to control the window blinds!)

 

Look, I went to school in Manhattan, had internships in Manhattan, and am not some Podunk hillbilly (well - not fully), but this girl has been living the suburban life a little too long.  There is nothing more exhilarating than the crush of the morning commute as I get off the train with headphones on: warm bodies rushing every which way, coffee in hand, street lights to be abided.  Now, I know the novelty of my commute will wear off.  Like, probably by tomorrow.  But right now, when I shut down for the night, turn up my music, and hop on that elevator, I am elated.  I am buoyant.  There is no better feeling to know I am making my way in the world – I am earning a living and standing on my own two feet – and I don’t need anyone’s support (unless it’s killing spiders).

 

And it’s not about being a bigwig with a bloated salary (both of which I am exceedingly far from), but it’s about buying the aged cheese, or the fancy lipstick (or at least having the option to).  It’s about saying, hey, I can afford to increase my 401(k) contribution and maybe we can pay this mortgage off in fifteen years in lieu of thirty.

 

Perhaps with a child my priorities will change, and we’ll decide on cutbacks so I can stay home or work closer to home.  A commute into the city with a job that requires extended travel is a lot, but it’s not worth thinking about now.  So this past week – as overwhelmed as I am – I just turn my headphones up as I push through the building’s revolving doors, face up, sun shining.