Monthly Archives: May 2017

I’m Not Getting a Job.

I’m not getting a job so stop asking.

Ever since my mental health situation that caused me to leave my job (see #CarriesLifeMatters if you’re new), a relative keeps asking me (and my mother) if I’ve found a job yet… not about my mental health.. but if I’ve found a job. They are my elder so I cannot say “No nigga and I’m not looking for one.”

I did the right thing. I went to college and got a good job. It did not work. Sitting in a cubicle for 3 years was soul snatching. I’m not made to be an employee. I am a boss.

Corporate America meant constantly shrinking. Do you know how hard it is for a young black kid with locs to have to figure out how not to seem scary to white women from Kentucky? The shit’s impossible.

I had 2 corporate America jobs.

At the first job my boss (a black woman) called me into her cubicle and said, “I need you to not be the angry black woman.”

See, I had suggested to the group of white women that perhaps they’d get more work done if they’d quit watching and snitching on my team.

“What you said offended soandso…”

“I don’t care if they were offended.” I replied

“You’re intimidating.”

“I don’t care. My paycheck comes just the same.”

What is so funny is that I was a temp employee making BARELY minimum wage and they were salaried state employees and (at least) twice my age. Why you intimidated by me?!

At the next job, my boss (also a nigga black woman) told me that the way I sat in meetings was intimidating. I’m sitting, staring at a screen and taking notes. Intimidating. HOW SWAY?

I told her that if she was intimidated that perhaps it was her problem and not mine. NOT TO MENTION. She was a preacher that dressed like a sanctified street-walker. A size 24 not twenty four. TWENTY FO in a skin tight, thigh length red dress and 6 inch heels. Btch, I’m intimidated, hell.

She was so intimidated, she fired me and I pushed back and she had to hire me back because HR couldn’t even justify the reason. I shouldn’t have gone back but my petty ass wanted to walk back in there after that intimidated ho tried it.

I digress.

So No. I’m not looking for a job nor do I plan to.

Those 3 or 4 years in corporate America were damaging. Being nuts genetically on top of being told you’re making people feel uncomfortable for simply existing while you just trying to make some weed money nearly killed me.

Getting too sick to work was the best thing that could have happened to me.

Furthermore, my friends and peers have started to leave their jobs as well. It feels like a community of awakening. I have friends that are full time poets. My classmate from undergrad just opened up her own salon, another homegirl is currently on tour singing with Ledisi, my friends are boutique owners, musicians, graphic designers, promoters, fashion designers, make-up artists, massage therapists, personal trainers, dancers and doing it on their own terms.

People always ask me “so.. what do you do?”

My mother and I are starting our T-Shirt company and YouTube Channel.

I’m about to record my spoken word albums.

I’m a part of an up and coming record label. I’m developing rappers that are actually talking about something. We’re going on tour. We also sponsor a night of Non-Violence in our very violent city.

I work with my city’s chapter of #BlackLivesMatter

I’m teaching vocal instruction at a Girls Music Camp.

I’m raising money for a non-profit that has a vocational-entreprenuer school. (We don’t teach people how to work. We teach them to have careers.)

What do I do? My days off are Monday and Tuesday. I do yoga. I party on Wednesday night with my ratchet friends like its our birthday (they got $2 wells yall). I stay up until 2am writing music/poetry. I do whatever the hell I want to do. I’m broke nigga! and I moved back in with my mom but I’m happier than I was with a $34,000/year job. AND I will be back out of my momma house in my own bachelorette pad by the end of the year. Mark my words. You’ve got to speak those things… *BAPTIST FIT*

If you are not made to go to college or work in an office then don’t. If you ARE made to go to college and work in an office, then DO! I wasted time doing what I thought I was supposed to do. The women that influence me the most, my mom, my aunts a couple of my cousins ARE made to work in an office and/or be in academia. My aunt went to college and didn’t leave LOL. She got her phD and became a professor it was what she was made to do. I am not them. I never have to see another office or classroom.

I wasn’t doing what I was made to do. As a result I used food, alcohol and weed as crutches when I needed mental healthcare and am paying for it. I went to the doctor today. My blood pressure was 124/180 and my pulse was 124. They did an EKG on me. The doctors and nurses took my BP and pulse multiple times because of how high it was. I had to get blood work done. (If you know me, you know how I feel about getting blood drawn). Mentally/Emotionally I am better. Physically I have a long way to go. I’m not going to quit smoking weed doe. Idc. Idc. Idc. 

Do what you want to do. Life is too short. Don’t be afraid to be broke for awhile to have unlimited streams of income in the future. You have to sacrifice. You have to miss events, I had to stop getting pedicures and my eyebrows done (and I’m vain). I had to miss reggae fest. I haven’t bought clothes or shoes this year. I moved back in with my saved ass momma. But I am happy!

What are you made to do?

What is your calling?

What is your gift?

Go do it.

-CGW

 

 

 

 

 

 

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