Do I have to quit?

Ever have someone say, "But, they're not YOUR kids" to justify why it shouldn't be as important to you as working? I have. I got a couple of nasty looks once when I said, "I work to live. Not the other way around." I still stand by that.

 

Seems like your coworker can't wipe his own ass without you. Sad.

 

There are lots of professions out there that cause people to have crazy hours and schedules. A dear friend of mine is married to a police officer who works the graveyard/evening shift. My boyfriend has a laid back, you-never-know-when-he-is-going-to-be-working schedule and mine is a very rigid 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. desk job. He is the one that tends to get frustrated with me, because most nights I am heading off to bed at 10 p.m. right when he is ready to have some together time. He works on Sunday mornings, and anyone that knows me knows that I hate for anything to interfere with Sunday football. The schedule I work and the job I work fits me and my personality. His salesman schedule fits him. I would never ask him to look for a different profession than one that made him comfortable. Nor would he ask me.

My point is, people work around the schedules of their significant others if they want to. I understand the concept of some that family always comes first, but if you are in a job that makes you miserable (as mine would for some) then you in turn will become a miserable person. That doesn't exactly put the family first.

 

My wife and I met in college. She's used to the crappy hours.

It's not so bad, though. She has interests, friends and family. She spends time with them when I need to work.

We act like journalism is the only vocation with crappy hours. It's not.

We're stupid for working so hard for so little pay, but I've never considered the hours much of a negative.

 

Echoing what others have said here, I used to think I could never work anywhere but the sports department of a daily newspaper. Whatever your job is, I guarantee you that 15 years ago I would have looked at it and said "I could NEVER do that." But as I got older and my priorities shifted and the business tanked, I started looking at those old boring jobs and thinking, you know, that wouldn't be so bad to make a lot more money and care a lot less. That's what I'm saying to the OP: He might think there's nothing in the world better than this job right now, but a survey of people who were exactly like him 15 years ago would suggest that he won't always feel this way.

 

There is one positive to the strange hours. You can save on day-care expenses for the little ones if you work nights and your spouse works during the day. That happened to us.

Sure, I'd be tired and cranky, and I'd be begging the small Sciclunas to take a nap so I could too. But it would also be cool to watch early-morning cartoons, take them to the playground while the other parents are all working during the day and hang out. But the amount of money we saved was tremendous.

I have a relative who has a little girl right now. Both he and his wife work. Their daugther spends a day with each grandmother, and three days in daycare.

Meanwhile, they both work, and, including commuting times, are gone from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. They barely see their daughter during the week, except when they leave and come back. Me, I got to see my kids take their first steps, say their first words, go to playgroups (where frequently, I was the only dad there. Believe me, I got some looks of 'why don't you have a job' and they always seemed to want to discuss ways to get stains out of clothes while I wanted to to discuss fantasy football. Yeah, you get the hint).

Once the kids get older is when it gets more difficult. You start to miss their weekend activities. You also start to feel bad for yourself, because your schedule is the opposite of everyone else's. You can't join recreation softball leagues, because they play at night during the week. While people are making weekend plans, you have to go to work. So it does get tiresome after a while.

 

I think one issue overlooked somewhat in this thread is how tough it even is to try something out if you don't like where you are, or if you're curious about something else. How many people have left journalism for the law, teaching or education fields only to find no opportunities there? It can be scary to get off one treadmill (albeit a shitty one with dimmer and dimmer prospects as time goes on) for another. I imagine that most people leaving sports reporting have a narrow range of jobs that they could go to, not, say, venture capital specialist or pharmacist.

 

Interesting timing, this topic. I've been wrestling with similar issues. Well, not really. I haven't been employed full-time in sportswriting for more than three years. But I've yet to find work that doesn't make me utterly, completely miserable.

I've been at my current gig for more than a year, and it's mostly OK. I get to work from home, my skills (writing/researching/editing) are utilized, needed and (mostly) appreciated, and I've accidentally learned a ton about social media in the process (I work for a marketing company that wanted someone to manage social media accounts, I had a Twitter account so I volunteered--boom) that should make me more valuable, either here or in the job market, should one ever develop. And after being out of work for almost two years, I appreciate the gig a whole lot.

My responsibilities have increased in the last few weeks--someone got shicanned--so I've learned more and done more and made more money, but I'm miserable. I'm doing a ton more writing, but it's the most mundane, boring, technical stuff in the world. Meanwhile, all the people I was friends with at my last gig are turning into multi-media superstars, and it's killing me. Sportswriting is all I did for almost half my life and while I didn't have a very visible platform, I thought I was really good at what I did--better than most--and measured my self-esteem by my ability to stay employed. I thought I was this close to joining the establishment and poof--it was over just like that, thanks to some scumbag with a calculator on the other side of the country.

I feel like this, even though I have a great wife (and thank goodness we met at the college paper and she understands how I feel about this business, otherwise I'd be single forever) and a great family. I never have to worry about eating or sleeping alone and I spend holidays scrambling to make sure we spend time with everyone. Isn't that what life is supposed to be about?

And I know it's stupid to measure my self-esteem by my career, especially one that wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire, and that even if I get back in I'm just as likely to be out on my ass again in a year as I am to have finally gotten my big break. But I can't help it. I keep waiting for the epiphany--sure, this work is boring, but it's a good paycheck and I'm not in an abusive relationship and I can still get my writing jones on my BLOGGGGGGGGG--but I don't sense it happening anytime soon.

My wife and I are seriously talking, for the first time, about having a baby (I'll pause until the screeching cries of "NO GOD NO!!!!" cease, or at least diminish, or at least--you know what, screw you guys), and I know the most important thing in the world, if that happens, is to have or find a steady gig that pays enough to put food on the table for our family, get our child everything he/she has to have to fit in at school and allow us to go away for a week in the summer. And I know how tough it is to find that security in journalism.

But goddamnit, I'm fucking miserable. And I don't want to be That Guy--the one who thinks he'll magically have this epiphany as soon as a baby arrives. Because what if that epiphany never happens? What if only Homer Simpson can get thru the day by arranging photos of his daughter to spell "Do It For Her?"

The worst thing that happens now is I'm mopey around my wife--big deal, she's used to that--and I hunt for something less mundane and, quite likely, less profitable. We'd get by with me making less. But what if two years down the road I've got a nine-month-old mouth to feed and I'm fucking miserable and we need my paycheck? The only thing worse than imagining a life in which I'm trying to four corners the next two or three decades is one in which I take out my frustrations on my wife and child--internally or externally.

It's a bit comforting to know that I probably won't feel this way 15 years after the fact, but three years feels like more than enough and I don't want to wait another dozen years to get to that point, either, or spend another dozen years asking not do I have to quit but how can I get back in. All of which is a roundabout way of saying: I get where you're at, I'll Never Tell, and let me know if you're hiring.

 

BYH,

It will be interesting to see how much having a kid changes your perspective on the job. It may not, but it sure as hell did for me, and people I know in the business who I would have said, "There's nothing that will ever keep that guy from being a reporter.", who have made serious changes to their jobs after they had kids.

For me, after I lost my job, I freelanced for awhile even though I didn't need the money because I thought I would have some writing jones that I would have to fill and I found out that (and it took a while to fully realize this) that I was happier with a clean break.

A clean break is hard though. I haven't been a NFL writer in a couple years and I was called four times leading up to the draft asking if I would come on to do draft analysis.

I told one guy, "I think you need to get a newer black book (NFL guide that lists every member of the media covering each team.)"

If you had asked me when I was 27 or even 30 if I thought I could be happy doing something else I would have said "Hell, no."

I was soured on the industry at the time I was let go. Two years of nonstop wondering about your job security will do that to you. "Hey, I won a APSE this year, I wonder if that means I'll survive the next round of layoffs." or wondering if the raise you just got is a good sign or a bad sign.

I loved my time in journalism. I told my wife once, "To me, journalism is like the crazy friend who always got everyone in trouble in college. You had great times with them, but you really don't want that person to be part of your life anymore."

 

BYH-

Be miserable all you want. But, a man with a family is a prisoner to his fate.

 

I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.

If you have kids, you can't let them grow up with a miserable parent. It's not fair to them.

 

BYH, I can relate somewhat. In 2007, I left a full-time journalism gig to design pages at a weekly with the idea that when my husband and I had kids, it would be easier to take care of them without having to resort to daycare. Well, it took us a while to have kids. And the job sucked a lot out of me during that time. Then, in 2008, our little girl arrived, and in 2010, her sister. You know what? I still don't like this job all that much. But it's not so bad as to be unbearable, and that's good enough, because I get three days off a week and I get to spend them with our daughters. I rarely consciously sit here thinking, "Well, yes, it's a drag to be designing yet another obituary page, but I'll be home with the girls tomorrow," but in the big picture? I'm definitely aware of it and grateful. In fact, after daughter No. 2 was born, I even struggled with the idea of coming back to work at all because I just so loved being with them. But this works out -- I make some money, I get some sense of accomplishment, I get out of the house, all that sort of stuff.