Thoughts of LoWriter

My Job Gets Me Down

I'm feeling really low and frustrated. My job continues to get me down, mostly because other people don't take their jobs seriously.

These days, when my job is getting me down more than lifting me up, I try to remember the people that I'm there to help. I try to remember the people who get turned away and probably never come back because no one was there to help them. I try to remember that even though no one wants to hear about it, those people are still important; they still matter; it is still my job (until the Powers That Be fire me or I walk out--whichever comes first) to stick up for those who can't stick up for themselves yet. I still have to be the voice for the silent. I still have to be the one who represents the under-represented. And yes, I still have to be the one who kicks a few out of the nest when they need to learn to fly--when their wings are ready but they don't know it yet and will never know it if someone doesn't make them take that first faltering flight.

I try to remember that I have a duty as the lead to make sure that the other employees that are actually somewhat under me are not overworked and stressed.

I try to remember that I am there because I have a calling, not just because I want a paycheck, and that callings are never pleasant. Callings are never something easy that just anybody would love to do all day, every day. Callings usually involve something ugly that the called individual has to make right, and once it is right, that person usually gets called somewhere else where things are equally as grim. Being called is about the yuckiest experience one can go through.

I try to remember that I'm in good company. I'm sure there were days when Anne Sullivan wanted to bean Helen Keller's parents and previous tutors in the heads because they were making the entire process more difficult.

Somedays, I even remember to count to ten before I shout, "WHAT?!" at a colleague who doesn't really need me when s/he is taking my attention away from a person or a problem that really does need me. I try not to yell at people who push down on my backpack and tell me to come back from lunch in a better mood. I try not to take it personally when people judge me unfairly. I try to turn the other cheek when a colleague tells me, essentially, that I dress like I'm poor (which I don't). I try to remember that friendships come and go like tides, and this is perfectly ok. I try to answer my phone kindly, and I try to be a good sister to my college-aged sister after all this is over. I try to be a better person tomorrow than I was today because I'm trying to be a better person in general. I try not to get too upset when I fail at this goal because, after all, "The force of character is cumulative," and all that matters is whether or not I've moved forward over the span of my life.

In short, I try not to go home and drink a six pack alone in a dark room while watching Office Space repeatedly every night.

Somedays, though, somedays, like today....when I feel like I'm getting bronchittis and I can't sleep because I've been coughing so hard that I've been vomitting for two days and people ask me why I'm at work after other people have complained that I'm not at work enough...when people say, "Gee, you're sick an aweful lot" after the air circulation has been off all day and the room smells like someone's socks after they walked through rain puddles and yet another person has touched me or my desk or my things with their germ-infested hands...when I'm behind on my overtime work...when the printer is out for the hundredth time and no one can determine whose budget should pay for a new one after six months of debate...when I go to a meeting and come back to find that someone hasn't shown up and thus the room has been a little slice of hell for an hour...in short, when I'd really rather just snuggle under a blanket with my boyfriend and make him pet my hair... those days, I really want to win the lottery, show up in my pajamas, throw my stuff in a box, and yell, "I QUIT!" over my shoulder as I saunter out the door with my possessions.

And this pretty much illustrates why I'll never win the lottery. Like I said, callings can be such a bitch. ;-/

Posted by LoWriter at October 30, 2007 10:59 PM