A year ago, I had an unnatural hatred for cell phones.

This proved to be a bit troublesome when I landed my first job in-you got it-a cell phone store.

Everyone tells you that if you want to be happy, you have to love what you're doing. I shrugged off all the comments and thought, "Hey, it's walking distance from my house and a steady eight bucks an hour. Plus, it's the only place that would hire me. I'll learn to enjoy it."

Optimism aside, the entire experience was a dud. I had to force myself to go to work, counted every single minute that went by and even at times convinced myself that the clock was broken.

"Well, this phone plan will you give you unlimited texts for only a little bit more..." I could hear myself trail off as I recited the words verbatim from the Sprint Mobile plans pamphlet.

What I really wanted to do was violently shake the mother I was speaking to and tell her that she should not encourage her ten-year-old daughter by increasing her monthly texting allowance and getting her a new phone.

"Punish the girl! She just cost you hundreds of dollars in overage fees! And wipe that lipstick off her face! She's only in third grade!" I wanted to yell.

Instead I said, "And it looks like you're eligible for an upgrade, so you can choose from this list of phones."

I felt no passion and no motivation for my work whatsoever. I thought that this was natural with any retail job, so I didn't dwell too much on it. One day, I went in and for the umpteenth time took inventory of car chargers and Bluetooth headsets. But this time was different, because I suddenly thought, "What if I were taking inventory of something else? Something that I actually like?"

I then imagined myself stocking gourmet cheese, and the entire idea seemed so appealing that I almost began to salivate (I had to stop myself in order to prevent moisture damage to the car speakerphones). I would love to examine our new shipments of bleu, gasp at the prices of Gruyere and wishfully hope that if I were good that day, the boss would let me bring home a wedge of fontina.

It was at that point, when I was shelving Motorola chargers and dreaming of cheese, that I realized that I was quite pathetic. You know that you don't like your job when stocking stinky cheeses sounds like a dream vacation.

I wasn't like my coworkers, who were giddy with excitement when we finally got the new Samsung Instinct shipment. While they huddled around the boxes and chattered about the phone's features, I sat on my chair and played a game of "How Many Times Can I Spin Around Before I Want To Throw Up?"

People always say that if you do what you love, then you've found happiness. If this is true, and it seems like it is, then very few of us will ever find this source of happiness.

Take my case as an example. I tried to do what I loved, but the pie store and pet shop turned down my applications! My only option was the cell phone gig, so my choices were either being broke or doing what I did not love but at least while having a fatter bank account.

But then people tell me, "That was just a high school summer job! After you graduate college with a degree, you'll be able to find a job that you really love."

The thing is, I feel like most of us are too practical to chase a job that we absolutely love. We've been trained to go a prestigious school and secure a career with a steady salary.

And even if we realize in a few years that we'd rather make a living off of something fun and crazy rather than an ordinary office job, it'll be hard to break free from the mold and justify all of our hard work in school and the money spent on our educations.

My friend sneakily confessed to me, "My dream is to run a taco truck!" Instead, she's forced to push aside her aspirations as she studies for her upcoming statistics test.

But is this necessarily a bad thing? What's better-having a great, fun but unstable job, or having a lifetime of financial security?

No matter how appealing the idea of running a gourmet cheese and pie shop with a puppy store on the side is, I know I'll never pursue the profession. It's just like the many economics majors who won't pursue a cool career in fashion and art design. We're practical and want a secure future.

Still, I don't think I'll have any regrets when I'm sitting at the desk of my inevitable future nine-to-five office job. At least I'll have a stable paycheck, which I can use anytime on a personal stash of gourmet cheeses and pies, and maybe a few puppies to keep me company, as well.

That is, if any of us will actually get jobs in this economy.

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