Following our anniversary, we stayed home to work on renovations. And after having six business days off work (10 days total), I was dreading going back to work on Monday.
Dreading it.
The fact that FireMan seemed happy to go back, just really annoyed me. He was practically singing as he gathered his gear and placed it by the front door.
I mean, I'm happy for him and all - happy that he has his dream job. But... annoyed. Kinda like when you're not a morning person, and some happy chipper person keeps buzzing around your face, you know? You just kinda wanna swat it down.
It just... I just... I get no fulfillment from my job. One of the mornings we were off we cleaned the manatee tank. I woke up tired & cranky. FireMan kept irritating me. Or maybe it was just because I was already cranky. Whatever. I was in a foul mood. Frustrated. Stressed.
And then I got in the tank. I vacuumed up poop. I scrubbed walls. I wiped down windows. I fed manatees.
All of which is physically demanding labor.
And I got out in a better mood, and much more relaxed, than when I went in.
Pretty sure it wasn't the actual work
Why can't my real job be like that? Why can't I leave my paying job in a better mood than when I go in, instead of the other way around?
I have such a hard time explaining it. I mean, I actually do like what I do. And I love the vast majority of the people I work with. But I get no real satisfaction from it, no fulfillment. It's just a job. And it is sucking the life out of me.
I literally get a greater sense of satisfaction from doing a load of laundry at home. Or taking out the garbage. Or cleaning out the kitty litter.
And it's not just the lack of fulfillment. It's that when during the work week, I feel so stressed all the time. All. The. Time. I have to work to relax, which is just ironic, and in some ways adds additional pressure to my life.
I mean, really, when you're feeling pressure to relax... I think it's a sign something might be wrong.
Maybe it comes down to balance. Or lack thereof.
Whatever it is, I hate it. I dread it. And I sat there and fretted and sighed and moaned and dreaded going back. And Sunday night I stayed up really late, because in some crazy illogical way I thought it would postpone Monday morning.
And Monday rolled around, and lived up to all of my expectations. The day started okay. But I knew it would be a crazy day at work, having been off for a week, and we had class at church that night, which we're already pressed for time to make it to, so when I was fixing FireGirl's breakfast and realized we needed more milk, I knew I'd have to factor in a trip to the store. Then I got in the car and saw that FireMan had left me just enough gas to get me thru today, but not enough to get back to work tomorrow, I knew I'd have to factor in a trip to the gas station sometime. And then we got to FireGirl's preschool and they informed me they were going to start transitioning her to her new classroom this week. Which means longer drop-offs all week. Which means I have to work a little bit later to make up the time. And then I get to work, and yes, have 898 new messages in my inbox. And am informed that I have to present on not one, but two, topics at a division-wide meeting that afternoon. And during the meeting our General Manager starts quizzing me about a third topic. And somewhere in there Once Upon A Child calls and says my box is ready for pickup, and if I don't pick it up within 24 hours, they'll donate everything to charity. And I realize I forgot the book for my class.
So I make the decision that I'm skipping class that night. You can make up sessions online anyway. Stay a little bit late at work to make up for the longer preschool dropoff that morning. Go the vending machine & get some goldfish for FireGirl because I know it's gonna be a late dinner. Leave work. Pick up FireGirl at preschool. Head to OUAC to get my box o'stuff. Then to the bank because I have no cash. Then the grocery store for milk. Then the gas station. Finally head home.
I got home just before 8pm and started dinner. Frozen pizza. Did the dishes while the pizza was in the oven.
And yes, of course FireGirl needed a bath.
She didn't even get to bed until 9:45pm. After she went to bed I did two loads of laundry, between folding laundry & putting new loads in, I changed the baby chicks' bedding, fed & watered all the animals. And thought about dusting the living room. I also thought about taking a shower and thought about making my lunch for the next day. But since it was already midnight, I decided to go to bed.
Other than bathtime, I didn't get to play with my daughter at all that first Monday back. Not once. I skipped a class I really wanted to go to in favor of errands that needed to be run. Exhausted (lack of sleep + time of the month + trying to get sick) I overslept that morning.
I hope this isn't coming across whiny, because I don't intend it to. I'm not in a whiny frame of mind at all. I'm just stating the facts of my day. This is what happened. And that is a fairly typical experience. Not every day, for sure. But enough. Enough that I consider it typical.
And it sucks the life out of me.
It just seems so backwards.
I spend so much more time doing something I get no gratification from, and what I do find satisfying, what is my priority in life, gets my leftovers.
Is it just me, or is that backwards?
Maybe that's why I feel so out of balance sometimes. What do you think?
2 comments:
I'm a planner, my week is laid out for me from the start and for the most part, there are no surprises. I spend 2-3 hours on Sunday morning preparing meals for each night of the week. We both get off at 5 and we're home and have dinner eating and the table cleared before 6 p.m. I try to make only one trip to the grocery every week and all laundry is done on Friday evening as soon as I get home. The dinners make for a lot less stress and save lots of money on going out, plus we tend to eat healthier. One grocery store trip saves money on those impulse purchases I make everytime I go. Being a homemaker would be my dream job, I loved being laid off the last couple years (except for not having enough money), but since I have to work, this makes it a lot easier.
It the catch 22 of life. You gotta work to keep a roof over your heads and food on the table. Which takes away from your time with your family. I hear ya, sista! It blows big green weenies. I feel that momma guilt too.
I end up staying up at least once a week until midnight cooking in advance for the week. Then I stay up another night, cleaning. I don't have a regular schedule so those days vary. I try to make whatever we do an adventure/lesson/fun, even if it's the grocery store or gas station.
My iron clad rule is at least once a week I spend a solid hour, alone, with each daughter - doing something special with just that one child. Sometimes reading a book, bike riding, art project - special trip. Everyday, I just include them in everything I do. Even if it makes it take 5000 times longer. For example, if we are gonna have spaghetti, I let my 2 year old break the noodles. That's the interaction that matter...quality not quantity.
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