Outside In! by Becky Rickard

I'm a dreamer but not a daydream believer (or a homecoming queen for that matter). When I was a full-time college student, I used to imagine what my first "real" job would be like. In fact, I used to doodle my corporate signature all over my notes in Spanish II. I didn't realize then that I don't sign the paychecks.

I had a pseudo-real job during the summer breaks of my freshman and sophomore year. The first summer, I thought it was cool to have a nametag dangling from my belt loop or blazer pocket, until I lost it about five times and paid a grand total of $50 to replace the mysterious nametags, which are now located in my junk drawer as a reminder of the Ghost of Crappy Jobs Past.

I kept that job the next summer because it was decent money and good work experience, or so I convinced myself. That was the summer I realized that this company could've paid a trained monkey to do what I did. Actually, I think the monkeys at Grant's Farm enjoyed their jobs more than I did.

After a three-year stint of waiting tables and finishing my English degree, TADA! I got my first job. I had been through so many interviews that didn't lead into job offers that I wasn't picky about where I worked because I just wanted a job. BIG MISTAKE! If you want to talk about setting yourself up for failure, I'm fluent in the subject.

I told everyone I loved my job for the first two months because I loved having a job that didn't involve wearing a tuxedo shirt. Then the reality set in. I was the lowest person on the totem pole. Sure, I made more money than a lot of my friends, but I was in an industry that appeared last on my career interests list. Not only was I in this industry, but it was also my job to know everything about the industry and its new developments in the U.S. and St. Louis markets. I set myself up for unhappiness, which ultimately led to failure.

I imagined myself being a part of a team that made decisions to better the company. Of course, I also imagined myself as the first professional woman baseball player after the '82 World Series. I wanted to be relied on, the gal that could get the job done right. In reality, I was the proofreader of all office memos. I was the "idea girl" whose ideas were never used. I was the perfect example of everything I never dreamed I would be.

I currently have a job I enjoy. It isn't important that this is my third week at this company or that I still don't know exactly what I'm doing. All I know is that this was a good career move. Although I don't have everything I ever dreamed of at this job, I have much more than I had at my first job. Now, I have an office instead of a cubicle. I have my own printer in my office instead of sharing with 10 people. I actually need a Rolodex for all the business cards I receive, and I couldn't live without my planner. I'm not asking to be a decision-maker anymore. All I ask is to have a job that I can tolerate, to work with people I enjoy, and to be busy with partially interesting tasks. Isn't it funny how reality can change your dreams?

And that's my view from the outside in.