Twentysomething Life is Hard, Don't Blame Corporate America

Most of us end up hating our entry-level jobs. But I sometimes wonder, is it really the job that we hate or something else?

It was only a year ago when I first stepped into the corporate world. Like any optimistic twentysomething, I walked into my first day and gave my new responsibilities undivided focus and attention, trying to learn the ropes and taking every chance to prove myself.

As the weeks went by, my frustrations grew. I became not such a go-getter. I just got through the days. I came to the only conclusion I could–my job sucked.

But all of my friends were complaining about their jobs, too. It was definitely the job–not just me. So I started searching online for better career options, while plugging away from 9 to 5 every day.

Right before I gave up on finding another job, in came the offer to start Brazen Careerist. After considering my options – either stay at a job I hated or try something new – I decided to take a leap. It's been a rollercoaster ride that's taught me the most valuable lesson of all: I never really hated my corporate job. Instead, I now know that I just hated the transition I was making into the real world.

What I've learned is that entrepreneurship is hard, more stressful than cubicle life ever was, and a hell of a lot more emotionally trying than anything I've ever experienced. So despite layoffs and all the offbeat training sessions, the corporate world is a pretty comfortable place. You get to go to a place every day and get told exactly what it is you need to get done. If you want to do more, you can. But if you don't, that's pretty much alright too.

A steady paycheck, paid vacations, health insurance – so easy to take for granted when you don't know what it's like to not have them. All the BS you put up with might be worth it when you're looking at things from the outside in.

Don't get me wrong, I'd never encourage someone to stay in the corporate world who has always dreamed of something more. And I'm glad I decided to leave. But before you make a decision you might someday regret, decide whether you really hate your current situation or if it might be just the transition that we all go through that's got you down.

More often than not, I think it's just the transition that eats at us. So make sure you're putting the blame exactly where it belongs and don't make a decision based on the fact that we're all finally growing up.

Thinking Inside the Box: The Great Escape

Ever since the dawn of the soul-wrenching cubicle, we working peons have had little recourse against the corporate monolith that runs our everyday life. So in an act of rebellion, I recently plotted the most nefarious act I could think of, leaving at 4:55.

I know what you're thinking. "This guy is a rebel. I bet he's the type who drinks his coffee straight, no cream or sugar." Hang on tight while I blow your mind… I don't even drink coffee.

So before you stop reading because you just can't keep up with this craziness, hang tight, and follow me on this white-knuckle ride. This is the sort of wild act of rebellion you may try yourself one day.

The first thing to do when plotting such a daring escape is to plan an exit strategy. In my case, I had two options: a door near my cube or one on the other end of the office suite. Logic dictates that I should take the nearest exit so as to escape danger as quickly as possible, but that wasn't going to work. That route would have taken me right past the boss's office, the office manager and the reception area. That's a suicide run, and even I'm not that nuts.

As fate dictates, I was going to have to run the length of the office to make my getaway, which is going to take me right past two stool-pigeon employees who will be more than happy to blow the whistle on me. But I had no other options. I was going to do this… or die trying.

4:55…Showtime.

I gathered my things and shut down my computer, the first move to make was going to be the most dangerous. I needed to pop my head out of my cube and see if the coast was clear. And as any war vet can tell you, poking your head out of the foxhole is the easiest way to get bit. So I put my hat on a stick and dangle it over the top or my cube, no shots rang out, so I decided to have a look around.

A quick glance revealed a cadre of workers in the receptionist area, ironically all gabbing about what they were going to do when they go home that night. The only good news was that both the stool pigeons were among the group. If I could find a way to get them looking the other direction I was all but home free. I chucked a stack of Post-Its over their heads to draw attention away from my escape route. They turned, and I darted out of my cube, down the hall and out the door.

4:57

I made it to the stairway, but there was a sudden emergency. Someone was coming down the stairs, and if I didn't hide quickly they'd see me and likely engage me in mindless conversation well beyond quitting time. I had a split second so I dove under the stairs and balled myself up as tightly as possible.

The stairs are finally clear. I make the mad dash up and out the door to my car. Sweet freedom is fifty yards away.

I pulled out to the end of the parking lot, and now a left turn is all that stands between me and my emancipation. I looked to the left, all clear. Looked to the right, blast! A line of cars, led by a semi, and too close for me to jump out front. I'll have to wait it out.

The cars pass, but now there's a line of vehicles coming from the other direction. I can't win!

"Wait!" I thought. "An opening, I'm going for it." And I'm out.

As I revel in my success, I take a look at my watch to see just how perfectly my plan worked. But time itself laughs at me and the hands on my watch tell the story perfectly…

It's 5:01…failure.

Oh well, I guess this is a lesson to be learned. Next time, I'll leave at 4:50.