| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- desperately seeking something ... I'm such a blah today. Yes, a physical and emotional blah. So much so in fact that I called in sick to work today. I just couldn't fathom the thought of my usual routine today. And hey, what are sick days for if you don't use them? I used to never call in sick when I worked at the other place. It was a tiny little operation and pretty much every person was needed to keep the dinghy from sinking. This place, however, is a pretty large, well-oiled corporation. So if you call in sick now and then it doesn't seem to matter. Watch me get fired tomorrow or something. I've called in sick three times this year already. Two days in March when I really was sick. Another day back in May I think when I just needed some space. Like today. Pre-emptive strike before the emo-meltdown. And I don't know where it is coming from. It's not as drama queen as I'm probably making it sound. It's just a continuation of that "what am I going to do with my life?" feeling that's been popping up pretty regularly lately. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It's cool, it's creative and even though it's 9-5, it's not ... I don't feel as if someone's watching over me every second and it doesn't matter if I come in at 8 or if I come in at 9:30 or 10 as long as the work is getting done. But sometimes I feel so unmotivated. A feeling I don't remember having at the smaller company. There I worked, ate, slept and breathed my job. It consumed my life. And for the longest time I liked it like that. I formed really close friendships. It almost felt as if I were part of this living and breathing organism. And then I left for awhile - and that's another really long story. And when I came back, of course it wasn't the same. All my closest friends, save one, were gone. Management style had evolved. The company was moving in a different direction. And I had changed as well. So a year-and-a-half after returning, I decided to move on. It was time for a 'grown-up' job, I reasoned. (As if what I was doing all along had just been play?). And that's the digest version of how I ended up here. Here at the corporation with the 401K plan and the stock options and the in-house gym and cafeteria. And the community respect and the proud 'oh my daughter/granddaughter works for ...." enthusings of my mother and grandmother. And the knowledge that I could make a life of this job. I could stay here for the next 25 years. That would be considered OK -- prudent even. But lord help me if that thought doesn't want to make me to crawl into a hole or better yet, jump into the next available convertible and head towards some wide, open spaces. Five years, I say to myself. 10 years maximum. Anything beyond that seems pointless. And I wish I could fast-forward to the future me and see what I ended up doing. Am I still sitting in the same desk? (or did I get rebellious and demand to be moved to more choice location?). Or am I doing something else? Did I start and finish grad school? Did I ever get into teaching? Did I ever get to the point where I could work part-time in an office and part-time at home so that I could raise a child? Did I ever find the deeper creative fulfillment that I'm so desparately seeking now? And on that note I'm going to go work on a short story and think some more about that grad school application ... np: nothing but the whir of a desk fan and the soft rumble of cars outside my window ... 12:32 p.m. - 2001-08-16
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money can't buy happiness but it does buy small pieces of of serenity - 15.07.12 - 4:29 pm sh)t's about to get real, y'all - 31.05.12 - 9:46 am why the hell not? - 29.04.12 - 8:38 pm Hear that lonesome whistle blow... - 02.04.12 - 5:18 pm a faith in something I can't see - 30.03.12 - 3:33 pm |
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