I know that isn’t true, but it certainly feels like it. If an author works on a book for 3 years, that book will (hopefully) live forever, they’ll gain fans and make friends with other artists, they’ll be able to proudly tell people that they’re an author, they’ll gain new skills and insights and such.
Me, on the other hand? I did reports for a company for 3 years. Reports about numbers I had nothing to do with. Those reports are with the company, too, so if someone asked me what I did for 3 years, I would have nothing to show them.
I made no true friends, just work ones. None of them wanted to be there, they just wanted to get work done, get paid, and go back home. None of them are going to keep in touch with me, probably, and I don’t blame them.
And the money? The money’s gone! Eaten away by the cost of staying alive! I have no stories to tell anyone — all I did was stare at a screen for 3 years. All my interesting stories have nothing to do with work.
I just feel like I was a robot for 3 years. Task in, task out. I don’t feel like I gained anything — I mastered how to do reports in a month, and after that, I was in complete autopilot!
I know I should’ve done some personal projects but I was just so tired after work. I learned my lesson but good God, I’m gonna have to repeat this process over and over again. Just for a slightly longer resume? FML.