Would this be dill or gherkin?

I had lunch with a friend the other day who described my situation as being, "a real pickle."

Frankly, I've never understood why this phrase would ever be used to denote something negative. Pickles are phallic shaped, crunchy salty goodness. If I had more pickle in my life I might actually be getting somewhere.

Crunchy salty goodness was not what she was referring to though. I have a job I can't stand, and to be fair, the job hates me back hard, so we're even. The best course of action would be to find another job, which wouldn't be a problem if there were other jobs available.

It's true it wouldn't be impossible to land a job at the lower-end of the pay scale, but I have a mortgage to pay, shoes to buy, and an inability to walk by Sephora without spending my grocery money on eyeliner.

Mostly it's the mortgage that's the problem, and I truly can't afford to make any less than I already do, even if I went back to the cheap eyeliner that smudges.

Surprisingly enough, my salary would be considered by most to be decent, and yet I need to work a second job anyway.

I live in a city filled with old people who bought their houses for $1500 two years before the discovery of fire, and now that their homes are worth 1.5 million they can't understand what's wrong with all the young people these days who won't stop whining about the crazy cost of living in our chosen city.

My cost of living would be less if I had a partner who also made a decent salary, but according to at least one friend of mine, I can't ever hope to "get" a guy who makes anywhere close to decent money.

Even though I may want to start reconsidering my friendships on top of everything else, that friend is probably correct. So far, the last six months have demonstrated I can't land a redneck used car salesman, a low-rent security guard with a penchant for inappropriate masturbation or a 20 year old virgin. I wouldn't describe my track record as hopeful either.

Making more money where I am is impossible. I will never be promoted, there's no chance to move anywhere else within the organization, and my most recent request to slightly shift my role and responsibilities in another direction was denied.

I've hit the wall.

Athletes talk about hitting the wall all the time, and having always had the good sense to stop participating in athletic activity when I'm tired, I never knew what they were talking about.

Now I do.

I just don't want to work anymore. This doesn't make me unique - most people would retire this afternoon if they could. I'm no different, but I realize my current financial and personal situation won't allow me to stop working until I'm at least 97. Particularly if my love life doesn't change, I'll need any extra income I can find to cover the cost of cat food and kitty litter.

Thankfully, I've started planning for retirement. I'm a grown-up with RRSPs and a Retirement Savings Account. According to the banks calculations based on my contributions, by the time I'm 97 I should have just enough money put away for a week long all-inclusive vacation - providing there's a seat sale.

After my holiday, I'll be ready for the career that will keep me comfortable well into my nursing home years. Porn. I read recently that there's a growing niche market for porn starring really freaking old people. By the time I'm that age, I'm not going to care whether the treatment for chlamydia interacts badly with my arthritis medication.

When I say I don't want to work anymore, I still recognize that I need to. It's more that lately I don't want to work the way I've always worked. My career doesn't matter or mean as much to me as it once did.

For years now, my only goals have been a better position, a better title and a better salary. I wanted respect, I wanted glowing performance appraisals and a job that I could base my entire identity and self-worth upon.

I worked so hard for all of those things, and now that I've come as far as I can go and I still find myself here - I don't care any more.

Basing my happiness in life on an activity so easily derailed by your average CEO believing he's a warlock, or a president and CEO who once described women's equality in the workforce as an "interesting concept," was never going to bode well.

So.

If I no longer care about the only goals I've ever cared about, if my current work situation is unsustainable and may actually be making me ill, if I can't afford to back away from my current work situation until I find a better opportunity, if there are no better opportunities, if my focus is shifting away from my career and onto the gaping holes in my personal life, if I don't want to go but can't stay here, if I cried during an episode of Say Yes to the Dress for no apparent reason, if what has always worked no longer works and if I have absolutely no idea what to do next...what then?

It's a real pickle.