Able to walk away -- and the reason you did

This isn't something that's really occurred to me before but...absolutely. I loved my newspaper co-workers, but it often felt like we were soldiers banded together in the Grim Newsroom Trench.

 

I haven't gotten out yet, but I plan on making the jump as soon as feasible. Why, you ask?

1) I'm in my mid-20s. I went to a good school. I got a job at a smallish daily and won some awards. I've moved up the ladder gradually and hold a job that, for a young guy still building his career, isn't too shabby. What do I have to show for it? Less than $25,000 a year and rotten hours that make it all-but-impossible to spend any meaningful time with my wife/friends. Strike one.

2) Did I mention less than $25,000 a year? Absolutely embarrassing. I'm not one of those spoiled assholes that thinks I'm entitled to $50,000 a year starting out just because I shelled out money for a four year degree. Still, I'm making less than managers at fast food joints. I've got a wife in graduate school and I'm slaving away at a stupid content farm on the Internet when I'm not working to try and cover the bills while my buddies who were smart enough to set themselves up in careers that aren't withering away like my grandfather's boner are taking vacations to Europe. An industry that essentially demands its employees to have a college degree and then pays them less than some schmo with a GED? Strike two.

3) I used to love writing. I used to love journalism. I used to love the idea of getting out there and chasing the story, digging up that compelling feature and working tirelessly to become the next f'ing stud to take the biz by storm. Now? I can't stand the idea of getting out of bed to cover someone else's kid playing high school sports, write another scrapbook piece about some kid that tries really hard because somebody out there won't stop whining until we do it or obsessing over where some jackass 18-year-old kid who happens to run a 4.4 wants to go to school. It used to be I could justify not making any cash because the work was easy to get into. Now? Its a drag, day in and day out. Nobody is interested in journalism anymore...no one that matters anyway. Publishers are more concerned with stuffing names in the paper and catering to the lowest common denominator than focusing efforts on producing meaningful content. I feel like a glorified scrapbooker. I've never been the arts and crafts type. Strike three.

I'm just venting. I sound whiny, I know -- especially for a dude that hasn't been doing this near as long as most of you old heads out there. There's lots of people out there in worse situations than I trying to make it by with (or, sadly without) jobs crappier than mine. Still, I know I'm ready to get out because I flat out made the wrong career choice. I don't have a passion for this -- or at least enough of one to put up with the mess that working in this industry brings on. For now, its back to the grind and making ends meet while my wife gets through grad school. In the meantime, I'm working to land a gig as an officer in the military (not a bad option, if you're into that kind of thing) where I can fly for a living and maybe do something worthwhile for a change. That's probably a year or more down the line the way things are going, though, so I'll keep selling out and doing the best job I possibly can in the meantime. As soon as I get the chance, though, im punching.

 

This was my biggest issue.

My former shop went through a few rounds of downsizing and it got to the point there just weren't enough hands to do all the work, or even close to all of it, and so we were all dumped on more and more and two things happened - people got burned out and left (and weren't replaced) and the quality of our work went way down.

It is just a bad situation as morale was at an all-time low when I left.

 

I loved the people and for a long time I loved the work. But when your insane hours reduce you to eating fast food because that's the only place open, when you gain 70 pounds because of your crappy diet and you're too exhausted to exercise, when you see more and more people go out the door unreplaced with more cuts promised, when your blood pressure reaches 200/100, when you find yourself crying but you can't put your finger on the reason, when you look at your 16-year-old kids and think it was just yesterday when they were in diapers, when your ex blames the divorce on your job, when your social life turns into the Petrified Forest, when you can't remember the last weekend you had completely off and when your savings dwindles to four digits, it's past time to leave.

I'm in media relations now. And I write freelance when I want to. I'm completely healthy, met a woman I enthusiastically married and my kids crack me up. I discovered have great friends. Yes, I miss the people in journalism. I miss covering the big events. I miss some of the travel. I miss scratching that creative itch. But I'm happy. And as someone much wiser that I once said, don't fuck with happy.

 

You saved more than $1,000? Lucky!

Seriously, glad things worked out so well for you.

 

Many of you mention that the job strained your relationship with your spouse and children because sports journalism made it difficult for you to spend time with them.

I can relate, but in a different way. This career was preventing me from even having a spouse, let alone children. It's pretty hard to meet someone when you have a base in Podunk, and even then, are spending most of your time away from that base traveling.

One day, I realized that I didn't want the highlights of my life to be how many potential Super Bowls, World Series, Final Fours, etc., I covered while coming home to an empty house each night. It was either the job, or my personal life, and since the job wasn't paying all that much for the amount of work I was doing, the job had to go.

I work in media relations now. And silence no longer greets me when I walk through the door each night.