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(Note: This is my entry in the current “What I Learned From…” group writing project going on here at the Zone. Everyone is welcome - click the link for details on how to participate.)

I did it for a long time, and I was really good at it. I used to enjoy it, a lot; but then I didn’t anymore. What was I to do?

I was a Piping Designer for over twenty-five years before finishing my degree and becoming an engineer. “What’s a Piping Designer,” you ask? Well, surely you’ve driven by a few refineries, power plants or other industrial-type facilities, right? See all those long, straight metal tubes running every which way? OK class, we call those “pipes”. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)

Well, all those pipes have to be designed (as in laid out or planned in an extremely detailed manner) to meet certain criteria: engineering specifications, physical limitations, and chemical requirements, among other things. It’s an interesting and fun job, very rewarding, and for me it was perfect because it combined exacting technical skills with creativity.

I can remember the exact moment when it stopped being fun, though.

When I accepted a year-long assignment in 1990 at a Marathon refinery in Illinois, I was forced to come to grips with something considered anathema to all Houstonians: a Midwestern winter (sound of terrified shriek). Now, I’d been places before where winter was actually longer than three weeks (the typical Houston winter season), but this was my first time to actually have to experience one. Yuck.

Because the job required me to work out in the open a lot, and as the winter began to loom large (and because I still remembered the Boy Scout Motto: Be Prepared), my co-workers and I trooped on down to the local Farm King to stock up on essential supplies: insulated clothing, long underwear, warm gloves, and other assorted cold-weather paraphernalia. (I’m sure the locals considered us a bunch of thin-blooded sissies, but we didn’t care.)

Finally winter arrived, and it was every bit as bad as we expected – temperatures plummeted well below freezing, ice and snow piled up everywhere – it was just horrible. Well, okay, maybe the thermometer went below freezing sometimes. And there was only occasional ice here and there. And it, um, only snowed hard twice. Maybe it just seemed like more. (So, how do you people in Canada do it, anyway?)

Generally speaking, though, we managed to keep pretty warm that winter, even while out in the refinery. But, there was this one day…

It was freezing (it really was this time!), windy, and pretty ugly, and I was in a manlift (one of those long-armed cherry-picker things) about 50 feet above the ground, trying to make a sketch of a new connection to a large pipe. I say trying because it had started to sleet, and everything, including my sketchpad, was getting pretty wet. Because of that and the wind, I was so cold I could hardly stop shivering long enough to finish my sketches. I was one unhappy camper, lemme tell ya!

As I was doing this the thought, “Why am I doing this? There’s got to be a better way to make a living!” kept running through my head. At that moment, I would have cheerfully taken a job pumping gas, if I could have done it in a warm climate.

Suddenly, a light came on (image of sun rising), and that’s when it finally hit me like a ton of spaghetti and meatballs (hey, if I’m going to get hit with a ton of something, at least it’ll taste good): I no longer enjoyed my job. It was a sobering revelation.

Okay now, there were two main options open to me at the time, both of which had a completely different set of consequences. (Make no mistake about it, friends, every choice has consequences – some desirable, some… not so much.)

First there was the “easy” one: quit and go work somewhere else. Easy to do, really, but it meant searching for another job, always a pain in the tookus. Also, since the company was paying our living expenses at the time, I would have to give that up. Besides, another piping design job would likely mean that, sooner or later, I’d end up in the same boat once again.

Then, there was the OTHER choice, the one that had been sitting in the back of my mind for years, actually. Why not stay in the engineering field, but instead of being a designer, become an engineer?

Now, this choice certainly had its appeal. I could move away from some of the, well, let’s call it grunt work, and advance my career at the same time, possibly even into management. Hmmm. In the light of my current (call it “frozen popsicle”) status, this option certainly began to look pretty inviting.

As I mentioned, it wasn’t a new thought. It did mean going back to school (sound of anguished sobbing) and finishing what I’d started many years before, though. And, even though it would mean a lot more blood, sweat and tears (so to speak – er, who makes up these icky metaphors, anyway?), in the end, the rewards could be so much greater.

And doggone it, sometimes the hard choice is the best choice!

So I ask you; if when you find yourself facing a big life decision like that, what would you do? Take the easy road or the hard road? Remember, both choices have long-term consequences; some you might like, and then again, some you might not.

My advice: take the time to sit down and think it through. It’ll definitely be worth it in the end.

After all, I am an engineer… now.

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