One more thing crossed off my list.

So I quit my job last Monday. I lasted only ten days, which is not quite as long as I was hoping for. I was kind of hoping for a starting point to a very long lasting career, but instead I lasted ten days. The job was basically my worst nightmare come true. I was a telemarketing sales person, which is basically like saying you have to go and scrub clean a shit covered bathroom everyday with a toothbrush and then brush your teeth with it later that night. Though, I think I would have rather cleaned up the shit then done what I was doing at that job. So now I am kind of back to where I was six weeks ago, except I know one more thing now than I did back then; I hate sales jobs worse than doing construction. Which is information that will come in handy for me, for the rest of my life. Because the only thing more important than knowing what you what to do for a living, is knowing exactly what you don't want to do. Which is good for me I suppose, but it still leads me back to the drawing board, though at least I have one more thing crossed off of my list.

Why is it that every beginning has to come with an ending?

So I have been roofing and siding for over a decade now. I have been doing one form of construction since I was sixteen years old and in three days I will be done with it. Now most twenty six year olds have not been doing one job for over a third of their lives, but I have. It is a strange feeling to me that I only have two more days left of getting up on a roof or setting up a ladder first thing in the morning. From now on I am going to have to fire up my computer instead of an air compressor. I am going to have to set up sales pitches instead of nail guns and most importantly I am going to be working with a bunch of strangers instead of some of my best friends in the world. I have finally taken that first step into a much larger world, I am just hoping that when I finally get there, I like it. So with that, I will bid my old job a bittersweet farewell and hope the new job welcomes me with open arms instead of a swift kick to the balls. In closing, I will just say this: Why is it that every beginning has to come with an ending?