Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

Your reactions to Part I landed in one of two camps: Most readers remembered fondly their own youthful creativity when funds were thin, while a few wondered why the hell I’d even contemplate this at all.

I enjoyed the anecdotes you shared, and it reinforced my belief that being short of cash when young is a good thing; it helps us appreciate things more and teaches us skills we need later. As for why I’m considering this at all, well, that’s the subject of this installment.

Why be poor, if I don’t have to?

There’s no nobility in being poor. It is difficult and it brings stress to every aspect of daily life. Every purchase is a decision, and every treat must be planned for or done on credit. More importantly, one life “event” can bring ruin. In other words, it’s not much fun, so I don’t approach this prospect lightly. However, neither do I intend on going all the way back to a “working student” salary…I mean, I’m not crazy.

But why make the change at all?

In brief, because my job is killing me.

If you don’t believe me, check out Cryptogenesis, the short memoir of my journey through modern medical establishment following my two stress-induced TIAs (mini-strokes, of limited damage and duration). Now I work to keep my stress under control. I exercise (okay, not last week, but in general). I moderate my alcohol intake. I practice a number of stress management techniques, like gardening, cooking, meditation, unhurried top-down drives in Pepper, and last week I tried a new one: coloring (don’t judge; it works).

These all help, but this past year my stress has become more and more difficult to control. I have palpitations. I wake up every morning at 4AM, heart pounding from adrenaline surge. I have difficulty concentrating, my retention is just rubbish, and this year for the first time I experienced a long bout of low-level depression.

It ain’t good.

One could point to the recent death of three parents (one of mine, two of my wife’s), and an unexpected long-term houseguest as contributing factors, but that’s all those things are: contributing factors. The main factor is my day-job.

I’m a developer in an IT shop and it is a non-stop stream of constant chaos, constant change–be it in procedures, priorities, systems, or expectations–and constant layoffs. It’s putting out one fire after another, many of them of our own making due to reduced staff and ridiculous, last-minute deadlines, and one week out of every six I’m on-call and thus virtually tied to my computer, 24×7, in case something breaks and needs to be fixed.

I am paid well for this, but I’ve reached the point where my life, health, and happiness are more important than the paycheck. What’s the point of bringing home a basket of money if I die in five years? What’s the point of an extra week or two of vacation if I spend half of each week dreading the return to work?

It’s not just my company, either (although the IT division of my company is particularly dysfunctional). I have contacts in other shops and this is endemic of the IT industry as a whole, so getting a job in another IT shop won’t buy me anything except the added stress of a job change and less vacation time.

I need is a job I can do for the next ten or fifteen years without dying. I want a job that I at least like (hoping to love my next job is asking for too much; if it happens, great, but it’s not a requirement. That’s why it’s called “work.”)

Add this all up and the logical path is clear: I need to make a career change. Unfortunately, since I’ve spent the last quarter century in IT, that means starting over from scratch, i.e., getting a job in an entry-level position.

In the words of the King of the One-Liners, the late Henny Youngman who, at age 73, finally had his bar-mitzvah:

Today I am a boy.

But what career to pick?

I have a few ideas.

[To be continued…]

k