Going to work every day makes me want to stab my eyes out. It also makes me want to swerve my car into oncoming traffic, as well as lick the drinking glasses of everyone who coughs with the hope I get the flu and can call out sick. Don’t get the wrong impression. I’m not opposed to working. I fully understand that hard work is required in order to live a fulfilled life, and nothing is handed to you. However, the concept of work as it stands now with the traditional 9 to 5 time crunch is gut wrenching.
Within the last year, I’ve realized that my brain cannot function on a normal human level when I’m confined to a small space, doing one task repeatedly. My synapses will fire on average of four hours, and then slowly retreat into the cavernous spaces in my skull. Come 1 o’clock, I switch gears into cruise control and completely lose sense of the task at hand. I am not engaged.
You may be thinking, “Well, what the hell do you do at work? If it’s boring, of course you are not engaged.” Okay, you have a valid point person on the internet reading this. The job title I hold is not one that peaks the interest of many. A glorified paper pusher with the label “Reconciliation Specialist” attached. Bow down, for I am the queen of shipping violations and contra-sales for a hair care company. They buy, we ship, we invoice, and they short pay us claiming they didn’t receive product. I research, bill back, or write off. For 40 hours a week, this is what I do. There is no change of pace, nor is there any sense of gratification.
Often times, I find myself sitting at my desk thinking of all of the other things I could be doing that would be entirely more entertaining than working. What could I do with these 40 hours a week if I didn’t have to work?
- Play with the cats
- Learn to cook
- Read every book on my “To Read” list
- Cultivate and maintain friendships (because by the time I get home, I mostly hate people)
- Learn something new
- Learn the art of photography
- Wear makeup because I actually enjoy applying it, not because I have to look presentable
- Exercise more often
- Go to stores during the day and deal with fewer people
- Watch every Harry Potter movie
- Surprise my husband with lunch while he’s at work (Haha, sucker.)
Doesn’t that seem like a much better quality of life? Of course it does. How does one accomplish it though? Aside from winning the lottery, I have failed to figure out a profession that keeps me home.
In lieu of that, I do believe that employers should allow their employees to make work more comfortable. Realistically, I spend more hours during the week in my cubicle then I do in my own home. Why can’t I bring my cats in and let them hang out with me? Oh, because people are allergic? That needs to stop being “a thing” because people bring their kids to work all of the time and I’m allergic to them. If I can’t bring my cats, I should be allowed to wear sweatpants, or take a nap in a closet when I crash and need to recharge the brain battery. Apparently both of those suggestions are frowned upon in the current 9 to 5 mentality but its time to change. If I’m not tired, and my pants aren’t digging into my waist, I can guarantee you that I would be more productive. A beer and wine cart would also not be the worst idea as well. A little 4 o’clock pick me up? Sure thing, boss! Since you were so kind to bring my alcohol, I’ll gladly stay an extra hour tonight even though I’m on salary and won’t get paid for it!
But alas, that does not happen.
Until cats, naps, sweatpants, and beer is allowed in the work place – I will continue dreading my day job. If for nothing else, it’s a constant motivator to find out what I really want to be doing with my life and pursue it.
Trying to deduce what my life’s work should be is becoming more difficult than getting out of bed when the alarm goes off every morning. And believe me, that’s a difficult task. I very easily can sit and envision my life a certain way, but how to get there is beyond me.
One day I will find my path, but until such time – I will continue on the 9 to 5 conveyor belt hoping that one day my boss will drop a six-pack on my desk.
Until next time,