As a newly-landed immigrant, I was cautioned that I will not get the job that I want right away. Canadian experience is necessary before I can penetrate the professional workforce. To get that experience, I might as well be ready to work on jobs that I don't like as a starting point, they say.
Stubborn as I am, I nonetheless insisted on applying for jobs aligned with my interest and matched with my skills. Having gone this far in my life with all its twists and turns, I have become convinced that only me can set a limit to what I can do. That my capabilities and potentials are those that I say I have. That while God ultimately defines my destiny, I define the opportunities that will come my way.
So I fired off my resume onto jobs where I think I will do best: customer service, retail banking, office management, administration, human resources. I was careful to tailorfit every resume with the requirements of the position.
The first opportunity that knocked at my door was as Service Coordinator of a global company specializing in self-service financial solutions such as kiosks, atms, scanners and portals. My job would involve dispatching the civilian engineers in the field and making sure that they have completed their jobs consistent with the service level agreements. The job would pay well and the benefits are impressive.
My first few days were spent on rigorous orientation and training. The job was fairly easy - all it would take is mastery of the keyboard and familiarity with Canada's geography. I figured that once I memorized the steps, I can do the job even with my eyes closed! Memorization however, is another thing (hehehe).
On my fourth day of training, I quit.
My friends and relatives had mixed reactions. Some agreed, others did not. The latter argued that so many newly-landed immigrants would gladly trade places with me. That I was such a fool for passing up on such great opportunity. That I would end of getting a worst job that pays the minimum wage.
But this is my life, and I know what is best for me. Of course, there wasn't anything wrong with the job, but there was everything wrong with me being there.
The job was very repetitive or mechanical. I cannot imagine myself being glued to my computer and telephone day in and day out, barking orders to the engineers with disembodied voices out there in the field. There's not much room to grow. Even if I stayed on, I knew that sooner or later, I would eventually quit.
More importantly, the job would take away my Saturdays and Sundays being a 24/7 operations. Henceforth, I wouldn' be joining my daughters as we devour our favorite books at the library, a stone's throw away from our apartment. I wouldn't be attending the regular fellowship with my newfound spiritual family every other Saturday night. I wouldn't be taking part in the Sunday church service with my family. I wouldn't be going out mall-and park- hopping with my family.
Bottomline: The job will rob me of the precious time when I do the stuffs that give me joy and make my life meaningful. It was simply not worth it.
I am glad I am into this stage of my life that I know when to quit and when to hold on. That I am no longer like the waves in the sea mercilessly tossed here and there by the wind. And only because I have the right anchors in place.
Three days after I quit my job, I was offered a new job - higher position, higher pay and with Saturdays and Sundays off - at Sears Canada, a retail business.
Coincidence or luck? Hardly. It's my faith at work.
3 years ago