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[personal profile] jookitcz
I received the results for my most recent (third) actuarial exam, the MFE. 3 out of 10, where passing is a six. I am unsurprised, but hugely disheartened. There is nothing like failing at something that you work very hard at, but don't actually care about.

I used to feel fine about stumbling at my job, because I felt like my job was really difficult, and stumbling was to be expected. A year later, though, when most of my stumbles are the result of missing details (oh, I needed to adjust the coding to apply the prepayment credit to each of the quarterly required contributions because it now covers all four after removing the 413 adjustment? how did I not see that?) I just feel like I am secretly a brain-dead zombie, all the time. Like my real brain is wrapped in wax and suffocating.

The problem is this: working as an actuary is the best decision I could possibly make. I am so lucky to have this job! I am in the 99th percentile of being infinitely fortunate! I work in a beautiful building with reasonable people making a pretty fantastic starting salary for someone with only a bachelor's degree with a huge potential for earning promotions and raises and all that.

I also feel like I enter a stasis pod for nine hours a day, five days a week, in which I am conscious but not really alive.

It is possible that I am a spoiled brat who misinterprets her self-imposed discontent as a desire for abstracts like "meaningful interactions" or "intellectual fulfillment." Possibly, I am just too lazy.

(no subject)

Date: 2010-07-06 05:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ann-septimus.livejournal.com
I feel the same way. I definitely feel the same way.

I love my job, intellectually, and I know I'm really, really lucky to have a job that affords me such a high pay-for-effort ratio. But it's stifling. The routine is stifling. The regimentation is stultifying. The feeling of staring down the next 30 years is exhausting. But it pays the bills more than adequately and is satisfying, in a dry kind of way.

I guess part of my problem is that I'm honestly not sure what I'd do otherwise, if I didn't have this job. I have dreams, sure... but practical options? not really. And so, I wake up at 5am and trudge in, every morning like clockwork, and trudge home at 5pm, readying myself to do it again tomorrow. It's not a torturous life... but it's scary in its feeling not being a real life, too.

(no subject)

Date: 2010-07-07 05:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jookitcz.livejournal.com
Although I've seen a couple of posts on the crazy hours that you end up working, and feel a terrifying sense of relative well-being.

I guess you hang on to the office job long enough, and you get used to it? And then the day comes when someone brings in doughnuts and it's a real thrill.

I am very much tempted to write, "And then you die." But that is super crazy depressing and not constructive. So instead: "And then you save enough money and go to grad school, or save enough money and work part-time while writing a novel."

The trick is not becoming so comfortable in the deadening safety that it's impossible to let go and slog up from the bottom into something better.

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July 2010

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