Here’s a Whiny Personal Post You Don’t Care About, But It’s My Blog So Deal With It
From last Wednesday (June 29th) to the 4th of July, I was on vacation. The purpose of that was mostly for a wedding on Saturday, one in which I was both the best man and also the officiant (which means I performed the ceremony – I’m a minister don’tchaknow). It also included my birthday and a BBQ blowout party for friends on Sunday. That’s why there were no posts here, why I wasn’t on Twitter or Facebook much, and why I didn’t read my personal email.
My birthday was good – low-key, the way I like it. Marking my progress to old age isn’t something I revel in, and I absolutely hate getting presents from anyone who isn’t my wife so low-key works for me. My wife is the greatest person in the world, and not only because she buys me books and toys for my birthday. That last part helps, though.
The wedding went really well, too, for which I was grateful. I was nervous as hell – way more nervous than either the bride or groom appeared to be. I’d never performed a wedding ceremony before, and since it was for people I cared about I was stressed – I didn’t want to flub it or make their day any less special. They took it easy on me, though, and gave me a short painless ceremony to perform. I did OK, good enough not to screw anything up, and added a couple of ad-libbed jokes that seemed to go over well. It’s always like that for me with public speaking, though: nervous and stressed until time to perform, then everything just happens. I even made it through the toast afterwards, which was nice considering that I was so nervous about the ceremony that I didn’t really prepare anything in advance. My wife went first – she was co-Best Man and looked great in her tux – and then I just said what was on my mind. I then got pretty drunk and even danced once. It was a great wedding.
Party and cleanup consumed the rest of the short vacation, and like every 4th of July I wanted to go to bed early but the fireworks kept me up. The next day was work and back to the Same Old Shit.
I have to say that I’m struggling with that.
I’m at the stage with work now that I dread waking up. Sunday evenings generally involve me trying very hard not to contemplate the idea that I have to go back to that place. It’s not that I hate accounting – I enjoy that aspect – but my job has evolved into something beyond that. I’m now writing memos, planning meetings, drafting corporate communications, working on projects, all that shit, and still have to do the full-time job I had before the extra shit was added. Yes, I’m bitching about work. Vociferously. People tell me I should get a new job. I agree. I’ve been applying off and on for the past 2 years. The only interest I get is from temp staffing agencies. Taking a temp job is a leap of faith – that one could turn into something full-time, that I can get placed at all – that I just can’t make myself perform. I make pretty good money and I like not really worrying about finances. We don’t live beyond our means – in fact, we live well short of them, as our 12- and 10-year old cars can attest – but there is a security there that I am reluctant to give up. On the other hand, I feel like my soul is being sucked out of my body with a Crazy Straw every single second I sit in this chair at this desk. I know it’s not worth it, but if I had options, like, say, another job to go to, I could do something about it. But I don’t, and applying for jobs that I don’t even get rejection letters for despite having all the qualifications they need is actually just adding another heaping helping of soft-serve depression that makes it tough to deal with.
So I’m struggling today. I look at all the shit around me that I don’t want to do and can’t get motivated to do anything about and just want to crawl under my desk and go to sleep. It’s affecting my ability to write – my creative drive is sapped every time I step into the elevator and see the beige carpet in our lobby. It’s affecting my drive to exercise – I’ve been able to get back into a weight-lifting routine, but adding the cardio element at 4:30 am is proving to be a difficult obstacle, and my middle is beginning to turn flabby again. All of the energy and fun and life that I felt during my time off was instantly ripped from my body when I realized that I had to come back to work.
These aren’t good signs.
Sadly, I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. The job market blows. I need to work. These are facts that are undisputable. So all I can do is whine and bitch about it, and hope to make it through another day until 4 o’clock, when I can go home and see the one person that matters to me, and play with my dogs, and relax and not feel like an angsty whiny little bitch for a few hours before I have to go to bed and do all of this shit again for another day. I don’t want advice or attaboys or buck-up-me-heartys or anything like that, and I appreciate the people that will read this and care and want to say something nice, but I think the purpose of this is just to get it down on paper and off my chest and heart for a little while.