I am working up the energy to leave the house and do anything at all today. My sister has gone to visit my Mom and they invited me to drive down but they cannot understand that I can't just take off a few days with no notice. It always pisses me off a little. I like my life but I have always worked hard and had tough jobs. My sister has never worked much and has always had the luckiest jobs ever. She worked at a tiny deli in high school where the old lady owner would make her sandwiches and send her to watch soap operas in the back room. I worked at a deli in high school too. The managers told me I was old enough to work a meat slicer and how often to scrub out the bathrooms. Every so often, Mom and Sis casually mention we should all take a few days off next week. Wouldn't that be fun? It would be fun. It really would...but I have plans to sit at work and grind my teeth.
I am feeling the creepy crawlies again. W says of my relationship with this job, "It's nice but you aren't going to marry it." Maybe this job has begun leaving the bathroom door open. Some people find the right one right away. Some settle and accept a job for what it is. I can't. I've got to fight on and believe there is a job for me that I will like. I am not quite there yet. My business cards came in last week. The box was the size of a microwave. I saw all those cards and thought, "How in the hell am I going to pass all those out before I leave." That's when my brain knew I wasn't cut out to stay too long. Maybe a year? That's July. I don't want to run away blindly and if we buy a house, I can't. I am learning that it's just as hard to work for a small company. Sometimes I hate all four personalities.
What I would like:
Much less commute.
A fucking lunch hour. I haven't had an actual hour ever.
A set and unwavering schedule. No surprises. No events. No hosting parties after hours.
Boundaries! I would like to tell any asshole customer who asks me why I'm still wearing so many clothes exactly what I think of him. Next job will need to include less drinking.
A place to move up or a next step...plus an escape route.
