I Used to Have a Dream Job

Shanti C K
6 min readAug 21
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I had a dream job in my twenties. I didn’t particularly seek out this vocation. I had graduated from university and was in a contract job in a language department of a tertiary institution. I was happy there, but it wasn’t a permanent job.

The path to the dream job started with a small ad. My mum cut it out of the newspaper and encouraged me to go for it.

I was 21. I never expected to get the job as I have zero medical knowledge. Something I thought would be a requirement. But it wasn’t, and my BA with a major in English actually helped. There was some writing and corporate communications involved.

I came to work innocent, full of energy and raring to go. I wasn’t disappointed and my expectations were exceeded. And it had nothing to do with salary which was slightly below average for a graduate with just a little bit of work experience.

My dream job was located in a hospital. The main part of my work involved the organisation of medical conferences and workshops. There was never a boring or humdrum day at work and I was constantly challenged. It was exciting from the get go. The World Health Organisation and other non governmental groups were involved and it was exciting work.

The colleagues I worked with became friends and were genuinely supportive kind people. I’m sad to say that life happened and I’ve lost touch with all but one.

I attribute blame solely to myself. I was feeling so ashamed to be unemployed and I couldn’t explain myself to them.

I disappeared into myself away from society so I couldn’t be judged and hurt. Not that they would have.

My angel colleagues and I worked as a team and success for one member was applauded by all. If we were in a fix, everyone came together to help. Doesn’t it sound like a fairy tale?

We were working towards a common goal. A successful conference.

Having the best bosses made all the difference. They would not tolerate any bullying and stood up for us. I was in awe of their genius as well.

And there was no hierarchy. Head of department, cleaning aunty, driver, secretary, nurse or specialist. We were all treated as equals. In fact those at the top commanded our respect by the way they…

Shanti C K

I’m 52. A cancer survivor. Childless by circumstance. Thankful for the little angels in my life. Navigating grief & loneliness. Keeping hope in my heart 🩵