A job and a career...whats the difference??

Growing up, I never really saw work as being something that was entirely "necessary". To me, it was just what people did when they grew up. I always knew since the age of 3 that I wanted to be a doctor, or a nurse, or some kind of somebody that was LEGALLY allowed to cut people open, allow them to bleed profusely, mess with the stuff on the inside and put them back together again. I just thought it was what older people did, not a job, or an occupation of any sort. Just some kind of observable behavior in adults<--(i learned that in Psychology this last week!) Obviously as I got older, I began to learn more about what it meant to have a career, or settle for a job.

My mother always told me, "make sure you finish school and get a career, because you don't want to be like me and have to settle for a job!!"....Huh? What the heck was the difference? Let's see...A job was something you left your house to do on a daily basis, complete a particular task, and get paid. Sounds good so far. A career was something you left your house to do... on a daily basis... complete a particular task.... and get paid. Hmm. I'm sorry? Why do I need to finish school again? Oh that's right. Because she didn't want to see me going from job to dead-end job, meaning more than likely, different industries everytime, low wages, graveyard hours and the idea of not getting as much respect as you deserved, (not to mention the constant fear that you may wake up that morning, and not know if you're going to be fired or not). Watching her slave on a daily basis, sometimes not even being home when I got home from school or not being home when I was getting ready for school, made me realize that a career may possibly be the better way, and that I definately wanted better for my own life.

I never knew what my father did as an occupation. I just knew that somehow, he "got money". At 24, believe me, now I know. My mother on the other hand always had a legit 9-5, (call centers, hospitals and telemarketing), because her main concern was feeding the 4 mouths she birthed, nurtured and loved from the depts of her soul. And that alone was enough for me to know, that for myself I wanted, needed and deserved better. Better than the constant hatred of leaving your children to slave night and day for a person, or people that treated you like you didn't matter. Better than the 2 dollar and 5 cent checks she was receiving that barely made it home, because by the time she cashed it, it was gone. Better than the long days, and sometimes lonely nights she spent wondering when better will come. Better may not have come for her, but at least she'll be able to witness better out of something she created.

And that I know will be more than enough.