I started thinking over the weekend, as I hiked through Peninsula State Park, that I might have to say goodbye to my career as a commercial interior designer. For good.
It’s a sad thing, and even though I have been pursuing marketing jobs, PR jobs, editing jobs, and various writing gigs, somewhere deep inside, I still held on to the hope that I would remain in the design and construction industry. I guess I’ve been skating around the issue, pretending that I don’t have to choose another path. But, alas… there is the distinct possibility that my job, as Blue Skies consultant Jayne Holland said to me this week, “is not coming back.”
The reality of this has finally started to sink in (a mere 17 weeks after my job loss) as I watch others in my field turn to flipping houses and managing finances. As indifferent as I’ve felt these last several weeks about leaving the world of cubicles and ergonomics, the fact that my options have been decided for me by the global economy, is frustrating.
How I did love making fun of my own industry. How I laughed when I had to tell people: “I design cubicles.” How I will miss teal and mauve carpet, bright orange office partitions, and four star chair bases (watch out, they are unstable).
It’s hard to envision a world without the term BBF. Or a world with:
No more AutoCAD.
No more ugly offices to fix.
No more carpet samples (egads, what shall I do)?
I do jest a bit, but still—it was my career. My profession. Almost ten years of schooling, training and experience had made me an expert. And I was GOOD, perhaps even GREAT at my job. To leave that all behind makes me a bit sad.
Now I’m faced with yet another problem (in addition to all those associated with searching for a new position in this economy); if my job is not coming back in any way, shape or form… then what do I want to do and who do I want to be as a professional?