I'm sitting on my desk, working on a draft that is to be filed in less than a week. I'm tired and my eyes are weary, but I don't hate the work, it's okay, it's just work. I've been doing it for a little over three years now. It could've been much worse, I tell myself. I could hate my Partner or my team or I could be back in college with severe depression. It's only one more week, I think, I'll manage. Besides, I've been applying to places I'd like to work at, now that I've been here a few years and it's time to move on. Maybe, wherever I go, it'll be be much worse - and then I'd just miss where I am now. Or maybe I'm trying to rationalise months of no sleep and mountains of work.

I have a few promising leads. I'm hopeful something will pan out. I don't know enough people who can get me through these doors, but I've done the grunt work, I think. It'll work out. I turn my focus back to the draft - only a few more hours until I'm done with this section. And then on to the next one.

I get a call in the middle of the day. It's the lady from the place again. My heart skips a beat as I attempt to speak in a measured, understated tone - yes, I'll be available to speak whenever you'd like. Yes, i went to so and so and have done so and so over the last few years. My heart beats a few times more each second than its used to. My life could change, I think. It'll work out.

A week goes by. My filing is done and I finally realize how exhausted I am. But at the back of my head, all I hope for is for that lady to call me back. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my work. It could be much worse, I know. I am grateful it isn't. But secretly, and only to myself, I hope for that lady to call me back. My life could change, I think.

It's afternoon again, and I'm back at the desk. It's another filing and another late night. I've almost forgotten that I was to wait for the lady to call me back, but mostly because I try my best to make it hurt a tiny bit less. Almost suddenly, my phone rings and her number flashes before my eyes once more.

I hear her tell me they aren't hiring for the role anymore. I say all the right things that I've heard people tell me I'm supposed to say over the years. I try to be nice to her, to be professional. I understand it's not her fault, she's just another cog in the machine, just like me. Once she's hung up, it's just me. And my heart hurts but there's no one to tell. It's okay, I think. There's another section to finish.

I go online on LinkedIn. I see people posting excitedly about working at so and so. I remember for a second the sheer excitement i felt when I first heard from the lady. I catch myself smiling sadly, grateful there's no one around.

There's another section to finish.

This was a punch to the gut. Like the OP, work is okay. Actually its more than okay. Its great. However, I am underpaid. I have no idea why. I know I am competent because, they do not have any problem assigning me work where there is no oversight and work which actually has a significant impact both in terms of revenue and market reputation. There is high degree of independence and the type of work is amazing. Only if I could pay bills with experience.

One day, had enough. Sent out two applications. Both were great opportunities. One called back. Had seven interviews, with people interviewing me across three continents and at all times of day and night. Being as objective as possible, I know I did well. If I had not, the subsequent interviews would not have been set up.

A week after the last interview, I was fielding office meetings and phone calls on a Monday. Mondays are hectic. My personal phone rings, its her. I greet her and am quite happy. How could I not be, I went through seven interviews with senior management. I had it in the bag.

I did not get it. Phone call lasted all of 20 seconds. Went about my day. When I went to bed, came the waterworks. Sucks.