I've been trying to blog for about a week now. When I say that I mean I've actively been typing out my thoughts and then two days later it's irrelevant or the topic seems trite so I start all over again. It happened so many times that I'm a wee frustrated but here we go as I try yet again...
The weekend has passed in a working haze. I've been stuck to my computer for most of it, only managing to pull myself away long enough to attend a baby shower for a friend. That was tons of fun and very grounding in many ways. I realize that people actually do fun things that do not involve conference calls, spreadsheets, deadlines or deliverables. Go figure -_- Otherwise it's back home to the kitchen table to bang away at the keyboard. I'm thinking about naming my computer at this point since we spend so much time together and it goes wherever I go. In fact, maybe I should buy it some bling? After all, it's seen me through some tough times and it deserves to know just how much I appreciate, right? Isn't this what happens in a committed relationship?
Oh for the love of Pete, how ridiculous is it that I'm actually writing about this? As if I have nothing else in my existence (sadly enough I don't). But to many degrees it's true, besides work I've had little time to focus on anything else. And here's the perfect example of how embittered I am becoming. At 8pm on Friday night at work, as I sat glumly waiting for a client to respond to an 'important' email, I typed out this blog on my handheld. Re-reading it now even I cringe at how despondent and hopeless I sound. Take a look:
____________________________________
Ok, this wasn't a good week. I'm exhausted and grumpy.
There is no relief for this nonsense anytime soon, not that I can see. Every
second at work is accounted for and then some. I have no time to breathe much
less eat or sleep. The days have managed to meld together in an atrocious
manner that I refuse to accept as permanent.
I'm not sure how I still love what I do and work with the people who I
work with when it leads to the days and nights to seamlessly run into each
other. And this is only but a part of
what's really happening.
It's as if all the burdens of the world have suddenly
found my shoulders and it's all come to roost. I don't even have the strength
to unburden myself to anyone, even though I always suggest my friends to
release. But somehow I feel as if letting go of mine, even if it's to share,
isn't right.
Here's the thing about me: I have a few close, dear, super tight
friends who I share my woes with. But even with them I withhold. That's how I've always been. There came a point
when I decided to take advantage of my friendships (and not in a bad way) by
taking folks up on their offer to be a shoulder. I realized quickly that my
problems aren't the only in the world and by adding to their plate I'm doing
them no favors. Instead they worry and fret and that, my Readers, goes against
the very definition of my existence, to not burden anyone. I'm the chick who will figure out a way
instead of asking for help, even if it means I'm turning myself inside out by
doing this.
Keep in mind though, when I know a friend is doing this I
won't stand for it, or if my family is in need I will fly to their sides but
for me? No, I keep it to me and
now...maybe I'm hitting a wall. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I'm wiped
out. Most of the time I'm simply trying
to stand up-right and whereas at one point organizing my mind wasn't all that difficult,
now it's scattered all over the seven seas. They drift around me in an
pattern which I can not identify. When I
try put them into some sort of semblance that makes sense, they run through my fingers in the most frustrating yet beautiful
dance.
Every limb aches from trying to clutch at something
that makes sense. When did I get back here?
Is success in this new chosen profession so very important? Do I need to push myself like this? Need I constantly try to reach
for perfection constantly, even though I know there is n o such thing? Why can't I settle
with mediocrity or at least doing the best that I can, which really isn't so bad?
No, I'm not impressive, as some may believe or as it may
sound. Nor am I stunningly admirable, not when most of my existence is all
about the grind. Frankly speaking, not a damn thing about me is
admirable. And don't think that I'm bragging. Believe when I say none of this
is in any way, shape or form, bragging. I detest this about me because at the
end of the day I'm no use to anyone, much less myself when I've worked myself into exhaustion. Exhaustion leads to being stupidly emotional and that...is never EVER a good thing because being emotional manifests itself into tears. No Bueno. But the fact is that this is just...me. It's
built into the person that I am and I can't even make excuses for this
idiot. Even my sun sign reflects my
characteristics, as it's want to do. I am every inch a Capricorn, and as I grow
older I realize that more and more.
Sounds good though, right? Being driven and organized and tenacious with
a fierce sense of loyalty? Yea, sounds
wonderful. Reality? It sucks. I
absolutely loathe all this about me and more.
Clearly I've hit a low point. Amazing too when I've just gotten back from a
wonderful vacation, isn't it? But
truthfully the afterglow has long since dissipated like mist (how cheesy is
that line?). Regardless of the cheese
factor is 100% true. I keep yearning for a place that I can't get back to
anytime soon and instead I'm faced with a life of drudgery that intimidates me.
Have you ever felt that?
Where your very life scares the socks off you? Look, there they go!
One of my friends said to me recent (totally joking): get
yo life together.
Ain't that the truth?
I laughed at that for a bit but as most things go, it got me thinking.
Yes, that's what I need to do, get my life together.
________________________________________
Has anything really changed from that moment to this? No, not really. I do feel the same and this weekend brought to light just how much I'm morphing back into the person I once was when working in a law firm. I thought I had shed the need to be glued to my handheld, could turn it off and put it away to enjoy the 'me' time that I had rarely been able to have. I had figured out the importance of life, which order things were supposed to go in and what meant something to me. All of this came upon the heals of watching someone I love slowly die from cancer. I knew, after experiencing that, I didn't want to die one day and say I never lived. She taught me all about living by simply watching her. Her whole philosophy was to embrace all the beauty and fun of life while still working hard but not to let the latter get into the way of the former. Ameen, Phoopi, ameen.
So I reassessed my priorities and had it all figured out.
Or so I had thought.
My mom, who is still in Bdesh asked me Friday night via FaceTime what had happened, why I looked so worn out. You know how there's a little window where you can see your own face in the chat box? Well that window reflected loudly just how bad I did look and I saw for myself what my mommy was seeing. So not good. She insisted to know why was I once again manic and working lunatic hours, that this job wasn't supposed to lead to that. I thought about that for a few seconds and finally responded with a shake of my head, "I'm ambitious." Never thought of myself as such. Not really. I am more of the 'nose to the grindstone' sort of humanoid. I don't try to beat anyone else, I don't try to work up the corporate ladder by shanking others on the way (not literally of course). Mostly I bide my time, fully embracing patience. I believe that singular trait is in fact a virtue and I will eventually get mine (am I naïve?). That and also I'm pretty stupendously lazy hence waiting isn't that big of a deal.
I took this job knowing for the most part it would be a 9-5. My time after work would be just that, mine. I didn't have to share it with the company nor clients nor even directors. This was the understanding until about January of 2014 when all that went to hell in a hand basket (what does that term mean anyhow? Why a hand basket? Why not a satchel or even a box? Boxes are far more attainable than a hand basket and cheaper no less...wow, I so digressed). The Project Manager here left and my director suggested that I take over one or two of his clients. He had assured me that the shift in responsibilities would not add much to my plate, even suggesting that we do it on a more temporary basis. If I wasn't 'feeling' it, then I could go back to what it was I was doing (which I barely remember anymore). I agreed, albeit grudgingly.
Now, over a year later here I am still 'doing it', the only difference being that I have more cases (many, many more) added to the plate and the handheld once again has become my bestie. Maybe I should also give my handheld a name. Something exotic and badass?
There you go, Folks, that's how life has been at least for me. I'm going to try hard this week to put down some hard lines, to not take onto my plate any more for it would be physically impossible to do anyhow and to give some professional push back. I do not want another weekend to slip by, I will never get them back anyhow. I also am determined to stop wasting my time and effort on individuals who do not deserve it.
I've always had the habit of giving more of myself than necessary, whether it's on a professional or personal level. Although this is indeed an admirable quality within anyone, it also brings absolutely NO return. I have put myself out there time and again for others and on so many occasions when I'm silently looking desperately for someone to turn to me and say, 'it's your turn, talk to me,' I can't find that anchor. I've said it before and although the resolve hadn't ever lasted, I will say it again now: enough Mrs. Nice Brown Gal.
Let's see how this goes. Wish me luck!
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