One of the weirdest things about my new job is thinking of myself as a "middle school teacher." I am 28 and this is the first time that I have had a "profession" not a "job." My first year back in Spain, with Vaughan Systems, I suppose I treated it as something between the two, but this is the first time that I've really had a job that I could possibly have... well, forever. I am used to answering the question "what do you do?" with a tentative answer. Since most of my jobs have been temporary or part-time, I have never actually considered what I "do" as a part of my identity. It was simply what I did to make money and to pass the hours between the parts of my life that actually mattered to me. Now my brain is wrestling with the fact that now I have a profession. And not just any profession, but one that is usually referred to as a vocation.
This has several repercussions.
On one hand, I feel... so old. No longer am I a just floating from job to job, postponing my life... now I am actually in it, living my life. I have a retirement fund, for goodness sake! I am at a job that I could potentially be working at 30 years from now. By beginning a career, the only major life stages left for me are having children, reaching 40, and retirement. The rapid fire transitions that begin the moment you are born suddenly disappear and everything seems to slow down.
Another thing that has changed is that I actually care about my job. The mediocrity that often came with the indifference I held towards certain menial or temporary jobs no longer exists at my middle school (this isn't to say that I did poor work at my old jobs, but I certainly didn't give them the same kind of personal importance). There are several reasons for this, the obvious one being that I don't want to lose my job, but also the fact that the nature of the position has allowed me to take greater ownership of what I do. This is both good and bad, as it allows me to get greater joy out of my successes, but it also makes me fret over my shortcomings.
This has several repercussions.
On one hand, I feel... so old. No longer am I a just floating from job to job, postponing my life... now I am actually in it, living my life. I have a retirement fund, for goodness sake! I am at a job that I could potentially be working at 30 years from now. By beginning a career, the only major life stages left for me are having children, reaching 40, and retirement. The rapid fire transitions that begin the moment you are born suddenly disappear and everything seems to slow down.
Another thing that has changed is that I actually care about my job. The mediocrity that often came with the indifference I held towards certain menial or temporary jobs no longer exists at my middle school (this isn't to say that I did poor work at my old jobs, but I certainly didn't give them the same kind of personal importance). There are several reasons for this, the obvious one being that I don't want to lose my job, but also the fact that the nature of the position has allowed me to take greater ownership of what I do. This is both good and bad, as it allows me to get greater joy out of my successes, but it also makes me fret over my shortcomings.
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Also, I'm glad that you are investing more in your job than in past jobs. After all, you are the partial caretaker of children, and that is a pretty intense responsibility. To think, years and years from now, some old man will say, "back in Middle School I had this teacher named Mr. Jacob,"!