7 years and 1 week ago today, I started my current job. I meant to write about it on the actual 7 year anniversary, but then I just never quite got around to it. So I figured 1 week late isn’t too bad, right?
7 years. That sounds like a long time. Does it feel like it’s been 7 years? Yeah, I guess it actually does – R and I got married, we bought a house, we had a baby, and a bunch of stuff in between. My company has been through a lot of changes since the day I started, too. A LOT. We grew immensely. Then the markets around the world crashed and we shrank. Immensely. We’re now going on what, 4 years of cutbacks in my office? 4ish I’d say. And yes, I know how fortunate I am to still have my job. Trust me.
This is the job for which I’ve worked my entire financial world career so far. It’s what I longed for when I started on Wall Street, what I found myself daydreaming of when I took that year off to bartend and play, and what I worked my way up to each year since beginning at this company. To be perfectly honest, I don’t see myself going anywhere from here. And that is 100% ok with me.
I have the flexibility to leave early enough in the afternoons that I don’t feel like I never see R and D, I get a nice chunk of vacation time each year, I get over a week of paid sick days annually, and we have outstanding benefits. And I don’t want the added responsibility a move up the next rung in the ladder would entail. I don’t want to manage people, I don’t want to manage a portfolio, I don’t want to deal with investors. I’m good at what I do, and I like being right where I am.
Funny, though, how now my daydreams are constantly away from my office. Of spending days at home raising D, of not worrying about how many sick days I have left for the year, of not having to make sure there’s someone around who’s capable of covering my work when we go on vacation or I need a day off.
Will there be 7 more years for me here? We shall see…