I hope it snows tonight.

letitsnow

I’m actually hoping it snows tomorrow. That’s right, this hardcore snow-hater who has written entire posts grousing about its inconveniences and dangers, is praying for the white stuff to happen overnight. I want to look out my window tomorrow morning and be greeted with a blanket of white covering everything.

I haven’t changed my sentiments about snow. I still hate it.  The reason I want it to snow is because I don’t want to go to my job tomorrow. In fact, I’m dreading it.

Ever have those times, especially after a weekend or a few days away, where you absolutely dread going back to work? Where the idea of hauling yourself up out of your warm bed at an ungodly hour and battling traffic on the interstate to go to a place you really don’t like much makes you want to sob into your pillows in despair?

Well, I’m feeling that way right now.  Last week was a terrible week, and on two of those days I had to spend an entire day working with people I didn’t like. Not only that, but on both those occasions I handled things badly and didn’t exactly act professional.  I wasn’t able to hide my dislike of these two people. I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual too. While I won’t have to work with these two individuals again, I’m afraid I might have created a reputation for myself of being a bitch who’s hard to get along with.  People talk.

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Normally I’m pretty easy to get along with. I’m usually pretty quiet and keep to myself. I try to stay out of workplace drama. I never had middle-school-like run-ins with people on this particular job before.   Until last week, I was taking pride in how maturely and professionally I dealt with a variety of personalities, some that are difficult.  The way I behaved last week reminds me of the way things used to be for me in work environments, when my emotions, usually my anger, got the best of me. I try to be mindful but this week I didn’t do very well. What on earth happened?

I think what’s happening is that my therapy is beginning to bring old traumatic events having to do with rejection closer to the surface of my conscious awareness. I’m getting triggered a lot more easily, more quick to anger and more easily offended than usual.  Right now I’m like a raw nerve. I have my DBT skills to help out, but right now they seem less effective than they’ve been.  That doesn’t mean I’ll give up on using them. Oh, hell no. I need those tools now more than ever.  It could also be that last week I just had the bad luck of having to work with two people who were just plain impossible to deal with and seemed to have it in for me before the day even got started.

hate_job2

I really just don’t want to have to deal with any people at work tomorrow. I’ll be honest–I really just don’t care for too many people. I also don’t like the way management runs things at my company (but that’s another story). I can’t look for another job until I have my own car (I’m still using the company car). I can’t take a sick day because I have the company car. I got my tax return, but I need time to look for a car that’s cheap and will run.

I have no idea what to expect from day to day on this stupid job. At first, the unpredictability of it seemed “exciting,” but now I just hate that aspect of it. This job causes me to feel so stressed out and on edge all the time. And very, very tired.

I know I’ll have to go back, but please, God, not tomorrow. Please let it snow!

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Exhaustion.

exhaustion2

I have a very physical job. The good thing about this is it keeps me in good shape and my weight has stayed down. I also like the fact I don’t have to sit in an office all day and deal with petty and stupid office politics, something that’s about as good for me as chocolate is for dogs. 🙄 I quit my desk job two years ago because of the politics. I like working alone.

The bad thing about having such a physical job is that I’m getting too old to be doing this much longer. Two nights this week I have come home so exhausted I lay down to take a “nap” and both times, slept until the wee hours of the morning, only a few hours before I have to get ready to go back to my grueling job again. Both times, I didn’t even eat dinner. Who wants to eat a meal at 3 in the morning? Not me.

It makes me so mad that what I really want to do–write on my blogs–I seem to have so little time for. My job just takes everything out me. Why are so many of us slaving away at jobs we don’t like and have so little to show for our labor? I hardly make anything. My car’s in the shop now and I can’t even afford to get it fixed. Why can’t we live in a world where it’s possible for most of us to make a living wage doing what we love instead of what we must? Why do we even bother?

I’d quit, but the problem is, there isn’t really anything else in this part of the country for a shy and socially awkward person in the second half of life whose only real skill is writing and blogging.

One day I’ll write that book I’ve been meaning to write.

I want to reduce the hours I spend at my job.

money-happiness-scale

In order to pay my bills and keep a roof over my head, I currently work for a housecleaning company. I actually don’t mind the work but the job can be VERY physically stressful (though it does keep me in shape and saves me the expense of a gym membership). I also don’t like the way things in the home office are run (I will not go into details here) or the blatant favoritism I have to deal with constantly (which seems to exist in most service jobs).

The office politics really stresses me out and as with most of the other service jobs I’ve held, I’ve reached a point of burnout where I really dread even going to work anymore. I do not really want to look for yet another crappy service job, and writing jobs in this area are practically nonexistent, unless you have a journalism degree which is required to write for one of the local newspapers. Obviously, I’d rather write for a living. I actually used to, when I lived in the northeast about 20 years ago.

If I could, I would write all day, every day. I want more time than the weekends and evenings to do this (because I’m simply too exhausted sometimes to write as much as I’d like). Sometimes I wind up staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning to catch up on reading and posting, but of course then I’m in no condition to be at my job at 8 in the morning. At my age, trying to get by on 3-4 hours of sleep is very unhealthy and then I go to work feeling like absolute crap.

So until something better comes along, I’m considering going from fulltime to part time–working only 4 days a week instead of 5. The job doesn’t offer health insurance anyway, so I really wouldn’t be losing anything except a day’s pay.

My conundrum is that even working 5 days a week, I barely earn enough to pay my bills. I don’t even have cable TV anymore because I can’t afford it (not that I need it). I never go on vacations, not even weekend getaways. I can’t even afford the movies. I drive a 13 year old car with expired tags because I can’t afford to have the repairs done that would get it to pass inspection. My disposable income is almost nonexistent–it actually qualifies me as “poverty level” according to the national tables. So obviously I really can’t afford to lose a day of work.

On the other hand, why should my life consist of spending most of it doing something I don’t really want to be doing? Our narcissistic Powers That Be would like to keep most of us working like dogs, earning slave wages, and possibly dying an early death due to work-related stress with no health insurance or safety nets at all should we become ill, but dammit, I am sick to death of being one of the sheep that feeds their coffers but gets nothing in return but a bare-survival income that does nothing for me but keeps me from being on the streets.

I need an extra day to relax and write as much as I want, and even start writing a book. It’s hard to squeeze everything I’d like to do into weekends and evenings. But the money situation is worrisome too. So I’d like to get your opinions on what YOU would do if you were in my shoes.

Is “survival money” more important than doing something you love, even if that thing you love pays nothing? Or is it better to take the risk to chase happiness and have faith that somehow, even with less time spent working at a humdrum job, the money you need will still be there?

Please do not suggest I approach my family for help. That is not an option for me.