Sometimes I hate my job.
I know this is true of most people. I suppose it’s been true of just about every job I’ve had. There comes a point when all I want to do is scream at someone or to someone. I need to release my pain. I need to tell people how much I hate my life when I am functioning in this work capacity. But that release never happens.
What does happen is I question my staying. I question coming to work the next day. I question if this is what I want to keep doing. And my hatred for my job increasing almost every day after.
Recently I’ve had some shitty gigs. I was under staffed. Had little time. The gear wasn’t correct. The client was demanding. You name it, I’ve probably dealt with it.
With me being in a leadership position, all the stress of my job gets heaped onto me. It’s my responsibility to get everything set and ready by the time guests walk through the doors. It’s my responsilibity to guide my crew, delegate projects, and do the hard parts of the job, the parts no one else is willing to. It all falls on me.
Lately I’ve been wondering if it’s worth it. Is the extra pay really worth all the extra stress?
One element that hasn’t helped is my current relationship status, as in none.
When I was with my Ex, it was very hard to go to load outs at night. I’d leave him, watching some random thing on tv, knowing he’d be asleep by the time I got home. I’d eat dinner with him, knowing there was a count down until I had to go. I hated it.
Since we broke up, I’ve realized how much harder it is to go through a busy seasn without that emotional support. For as many faults as he had (and there were many), there was still that person I would come home to and bitch about my day. And he always had this uncanny way of building me back up. He encouraged me, told me how great I was at my job, how kickass I was as a tech.
I have no desire to go back to my Ex. None. But I do miss the pep talks. The cuddles at night. The arms to hold onto me when I was ready to cry from all the stress.
NaNoRiMo is coming up. I’m going to be participating for the first time. I have my novel idea flushed out fairly well in my head, as well as some notes jotted down on paper.
I am a writer. And, lately, every time I’ve been at work I’ve asked myself, Why am I doing this? Why am I here? I should be writing.
Gray has been needling me lately. After I mentioned how I contemplated being a doctor when I was younger, he’s tried to push me to research more about going back to school. He’s said, and this is very true, people don’t leave their positions in life until it gets too hard for them to stay.
I don’t think I’ll become a doctor, but I am coming to a point where staying in my current job is close to unbearable.
I am a writer. I know this in my bones. It’s time I do more than this blog, more than talking about being a paid author. It’s time I actually do it.
It’s time for me to commit to my real career and let my shadow career fall away. It’s time for me to be a writer.
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