I don’t have long this morning, lovelies. I have to get to work because I have an audit tomorrow for which I’m not even kind of ready, and am torn as to whether or not I really care, and yet will prepare like my life depends on it.
After that, I have a baseball meeting that may or may not end with me in an actual, physical cat fight. I’m half hoping it does, because I’d much rather punch this woman in the mouth than listen to her speak for another second of my life.
With that kind of busy Sunday in front of me, I’m conflicted as to whether or not I should be spending time here at all.
As usual, when I’m conflicted, what I do best is procrastinate. And where I do that best is in front of a keyboard.
It has been a long time since I had a confession for you, my darlings, maybe because my blog has been so invaded that I’ve been quieter about the big stuff in my head.
But have a confession for you, I do.
I hate my job.
This is news to me, but probably not so much to the more observant in my life/readership.
I hate the slog of the paperwork, the mess and fuss of these little people with little lives and little priorities. I hate having to create three pieces of paper that all say the same thing and have to be filed in three different places, never to be looked at again except to be audited by a second level of management who only cares that the papers are initialed, dated, and signed in the proper places.
I miss doing something. Creating something that matters to someone. I’ve built houses that became peoples’ homes. I’ve worked to make sure that insurance companies paid their hospitals properly so that sick people didn’t get stuck with the bill. I’ve created protections that kept land open and pristine for the next generation. I’ve saved small business owners thousands of dollars so that they could hire another two or three people.
I’ve worked at some really unique and interesting places in my life. I like those places – I think of every one of them fondly, for different reasons. I’ve learned so much from those experiences. And what they all have in common is that the job changed, every day, to make the next thing happen.
This job never changes. I never get anywhere. I never accomplish anything. Every new person that walks through my door is just another new stack of paperwork.
What kills me is that it could be something great. It could be one of those places where I make a huge difference in someone’s life, teach them something that changes their life. But it’s not. The people I work with, that could help me make those things happen, aren’t interested. They just want to do what they’ve always done, then go home, then come back the next day and do it all over again.
I am being disenfranchised by disinterest.
When I first started, my store manager was strong, enthusiastic, engaged, and informed. My new store manager leads from behind, and when I say behind, I mean behind a desk. He is the least-moving-and-shaking type I have ever worked for.
Maybe I worked for entrepreneur types for too long. I miss hyper, type A personalities who are always looking to the next thing while they’re busy multitasking through three other things in front of them. I miss the challenge of managing them and the workload and pulling it all off when it seems impossible.
There’s no challenge to this job. There’s forms, and signatures, and compliance.
I want to work with people who want to work. And I’m not getting that here.
Is what I’m looking for a thing of the past? Does anybody love their job anymore? Does anybody believe in something bigger than themselves – a greater good that’s worth a little blood and sweat to achieve?
Am I just looking in the wrong places for these kinds of attitudes?
Does anybody have any suggestions for me? I’d love to chuck it all and just write, and volunteer for organizations I love and believe in, and take classes – but until we return to ancient Greece and I find a wealthy patron, that’s not happening! So other than that, where should I be looking for the kind of fire I am craving in my professional life?