Options, and the lack thereof
I just turned down a possible job opportunity. I've never felt more conflicted about a decision in my life.
I'd applied for the job in one of my application blitzes, operating under the assumption of "Any job is good! I can move any place!" The museum finally called me to confirm my email to send me some pre-interview questions. Yay! I'm in the running! And it's for a catch-all Museum Technician position, where I'd have lots of responsibility doing everything from collections care to exhibit content design. So! Cool! So much opportunity to flex my creative muscles!
And then I did a quick search of the town itself.
I thought I could move anywhere - any small town, didn't matter - but as I kept reading I started to have a panic attack. This town is in North Dakota, and has only 30,000 people. That's less than a fifth the size of the smallest place I've ever lived, and is four hours from any other town of equal size. And that's still twice the size it used to be, thanks to the natural gas boom going on. Said gas boom had also created a housing shortage, so a cursory apartment search didn't turn up anything remotely cheaper than Seattle.
Huh. Ok. A small town I can deal with, I can adjust to, but a 4 hour drive from the next direct flight to visit my family? For no foreseeable financial gain? I looked into what it would take to fly from there to Portland, too, and there weren't any options that didn't required two to three layovers. Ouch. I'd be lucky if I could manage one trip home a year. And even though it was a college town, everything pointed to it being an extremely conservative area. Pink-haired, atheist, crunchy-granola Allie would never fit in. Unless the job turned out to truly be super-duper amazing and fulfilling, and it payed really, really well, I just saw myself being really miserable and lonely there. So I replied that I was no longer interested and didn't want to waste their time sending the form in.
Was that wrong? This job hunt has been dragging on for so long and I am so desperate for a salary with benefits that I'm beginning to contemplate leaving my field. That is an extremely depressing thing to contemplate, especially after how much work I put into my degree. I feel like I'm throwing away a perfectly good opportunity...
...but I also know myself. I know how hard it is for me to make friends and meet new people even in a major city. Don't get me started on my abysmal dating record. If I want to have a family someday and it's not going to be with Chris, then I have to wind up somewhere I will actually meet men, right? These are all huge quality of life issues that are important, right? Right? Right?
*sigh* I'm still not over that zoo job that I didn't get. That was a town of roughly the same size as this one in North Dakota, but with a major art scene, close to San Diego, and just a single plane ride away from my loved ones. That zoo was pretty bitchin', too. I hope I don't regret turning down this recent opportunity as much as I regret not getting that one.
I'd applied for the job in one of my application blitzes, operating under the assumption of "Any job is good! I can move any place!" The museum finally called me to confirm my email to send me some pre-interview questions. Yay! I'm in the running! And it's for a catch-all Museum Technician position, where I'd have lots of responsibility doing everything from collections care to exhibit content design. So! Cool! So much opportunity to flex my creative muscles!
And then I did a quick search of the town itself.
I thought I could move anywhere - any small town, didn't matter - but as I kept reading I started to have a panic attack. This town is in North Dakota, and has only 30,000 people. That's less than a fifth the size of the smallest place I've ever lived, and is four hours from any other town of equal size. And that's still twice the size it used to be, thanks to the natural gas boom going on. Said gas boom had also created a housing shortage, so a cursory apartment search didn't turn up anything remotely cheaper than Seattle.
Huh. Ok. A small town I can deal with, I can adjust to, but a 4 hour drive from the next direct flight to visit my family? For no foreseeable financial gain? I looked into what it would take to fly from there to Portland, too, and there weren't any options that didn't required two to three layovers. Ouch. I'd be lucky if I could manage one trip home a year. And even though it was a college town, everything pointed to it being an extremely conservative area. Pink-haired, atheist, crunchy-granola Allie would never fit in. Unless the job turned out to truly be super-duper amazing and fulfilling, and it payed really, really well, I just saw myself being really miserable and lonely there. So I replied that I was no longer interested and didn't want to waste their time sending the form in.
Was that wrong? This job hunt has been dragging on for so long and I am so desperate for a salary with benefits that I'm beginning to contemplate leaving my field. That is an extremely depressing thing to contemplate, especially after how much work I put into my degree. I feel like I'm throwing away a perfectly good opportunity...
...but I also know myself. I know how hard it is for me to make friends and meet new people even in a major city. Don't get me started on my abysmal dating record. If I want to have a family someday and it's not going to be with Chris, then I have to wind up somewhere I will actually meet men, right? These are all huge quality of life issues that are important, right? Right? Right?
*sigh* I'm still not over that zoo job that I didn't get. That was a town of roughly the same size as this one in North Dakota, but with a major art scene, close to San Diego, and just a single plane ride away from my loved ones. That zoo was pretty bitchin', too. I hope I don't regret turning down this recent opportunity as much as I regret not getting that one.