Take one VW Beetle and call me in the morning

I had a bad day at work today. I had a headache between my eyes by 9:30 am and by 2:30 pm it was throbbing and making things look slightly wiggly around the edges. Not that I minded. Wiggly seemed more appealing than reality today.

We are in the full throws of our annual pre-September panic as we try to ready things for when the students arrive back on campus in a couple of weeks. Many of us were grumpy again today, which is never pleasant, but not all that unusual in many workplaces unfortunately. However, given what we do for a living -- that is, inspire people to go after their career dreams -- it feels disingenuous and surreal to be advising people about career happiness while simultaneously wandering around muttering under our breath and compulsively checking our lottery tickets.

Everyone has bad days of course, even people who are doing work they generally like. Still, when I left the office today, I could feel the cloud of the day hanging over me. I felt gloomy and despite the ibuprofen I'd ingested every four hours all day long, my head was still pounding.

Cue my ride home. A few years ago, my husband persuaded me to buy a totally unecessary, self-indulgent and possibly environmentally irresponsible 1973 Volkswagen Beetle. It's at the top of a list of cars I've wanted my whole life and although I hadn't had my driver's license for 15 years due to a fainting problem, I was finally healthy and able to drive again. Even though it's been six years since we bought that car and I drive it nearly every day from April to October, it still works its magic.

I don't know if the soothing comes from the distinctive burble of the VW engine or the cheery yellow colour or the way people spontaneously smile when we drive by. I notice that no matter what my mood, within minutes of starting the car, my heart feels as if it's going to burst out of my chest and I don't know whether to laugh or cry (and I frequently do both). Mostly, I find myself grinning like an idiot with the sheer joy of the experience. Maybe it's the years without the driver's license and the thrill of independence that never gets old for me or maybe I'm just easily entertained. I just know that seriously, my cheeks hurt because I'm grinning so much! I no longer come busting in the door at home ranting about the latest tax hike, world injustice or inconsiderate driver. As corny as it sounds, when I get in that car, the bad stuff about the world seems to melt away and my only option seems to be happiness. My "Daizybug" is some of the best medicine for whatever ails me.

We all have bad days - in work and in life. Do you have a place, activity, or person to be with where giddy joy is abundant? Spending some time there can do wonders to help you rejuvenate so you have energy to appreciate your progress and keep acting on your dreams.

Wishing you your very own "Daizybug".

Do You Look Career Desperate?

You know the saying in dating that advises, “Once you stop looking for a great guy, he’ll land in your lap”? Well, the same may be true for finding your true love career. Sure, preparation is important. Knowing yourself and thinking specifically about what you’re going after are key steps that will help you increase your chances of making a great career match. But I would be misleading you if I didn’t admit that there’s also some timing and serendipity involved.

Do you look desperate? You know how when you WANT to meet someone, you can’t seem to get a second glance, but then as soon as you’re off the market, you suddenly appear to be the most desirable woman in the world? That same cosmic mess-with-your-head principle may apply to career dating as well. Somehow, employers and contacts sense the beseeching plea that seems to emanate from your every pore (and you thought it was just the Love’s Baby Soft you’ve worn since you were 12). No matter how calm and composed you think you’re being, if your body language is saying, “HELP me…I hate my job and I want one like yours”, you may find yourself having great meetings with people that never seem to go to a second date. Your desperation is making them feel trapped, nervous and possibly even that you have ulterior motives.

Whether it’s tantric hot yoga or retail therapy that calms you down, find a way to tap into your inner Zen…or you will end up alone with your internet favourites permanently stuck on monster.com. And I wouldn’t wish that on you. You seem like such a lovely woman.

Christine Fader is a career counsellor and author of "Career Cupid: Your Guide to Landing and Loving Your Dream Job". Visit her at www.careercupid.com

That Job Stinks. Or Does It?

The end to the recent garbage strike in Toronto got me thinking about the limitations of a university degree. Take a whiff of a city with no garbage pick up for 6 weeks and the value of waste disposal professionals is pretty clear. Everyone - including those with those oh-so-necessary-nowadays university degrees - suffered due to the lack of bodies coming to clear away that which we have consumed, ripped open and thrown out. Yep, it's a valuable service these people provide and a career worth respecting because without people doing that good work, we would be in a real mess.

And yet, how many of us would encourage a person who aspired to that career? It's interesting that we don't have the same sarcastic or negative reaction when someone tells us they want to be a doctor. Yet, that aspiring doctor could end up being a gastroenterologist - the garbage collector of that field. Sure, there's a pay difference but those city garbage collectors have a much better union than doctors and they also make a good living. They don't work nearly the same hours per week as a gastroenterologist and I'm guessing that they probably don't have the same high rate of suicide as doctors do. And if the last 6 weeks showed the people of Toronto and the rest of us anything, it should have highlighted the incredible value that municipal trash collectors have in our world.

Yet when it comes to career respect, we treat that job, and by extension, the people who do it, as less than. Oh sure, it's fine for someone else's kid/sister/father to do that job but we have a sort of "NIMBY" mentality towards career choice. Yes, we need garbage collectors but there's no way my kid/sister/father is going to do a job like that.

Why do we do that? I work at a university (admittedly, a skewed sample) and see this type of career hierarchy in play every day. Prestige is often a big part of why students choose the work they do, especially when they have continuously been told that university is the "top" of the academic food chain. Yet is it really? Isn't university just one of many education and training options available? No better or worse than other options - just different? Still, I see parents and students every week who choose against a job or education program they want because it's perceived to be beneath a "smart person".

What would happen if the college goers, apprentices and people who earn an honest living by asking, "do you want fries with that?" were acknowledged as just as needed and respected just as highly as (and by) those who came out of university? Career and education choice could be about differences, instead of "better than" and "less than".

I'm not just spouting Pollyanna optimism and equality here. As we continually tell our current and future generations of children that university is the only "smart people's" option, we not only diminish the immense value of the training and contributions the rest of the workforce makes, we are ending up with a world where fewer and fewer people will actually take a job taking out the garbage. Jobs where college, apprenticeship or experience is the path to get there are so de-valued, they are seen as the failing choice, instead of something to which someone could aspire. Soon, and it's already happening in some places, we will live in a world where everyone is too "qualified" to pick up the garbage.

And that, to me, is a world that stinks. Literally.