Because life is ironic, here’s an exact quote of words that came out of my pie hole around 3 pm on Friday afternoon: “Monotony is driving me crazy. I feel like I am living in the movie Groundhog Day.” I was referring to work (mainly). Then I had a conversation with my friend at 7 pm that same Friday. We began by reminiscing over how she met her husband. Somewhere along the lines she told me how her ex-fiance’ was the focus of a news story for being a blind mechanic. She specifically said that he had repeated the same motions so many times that he knew how to fix a car by the feel of it, without his sight. Of course he did. I know, I know. Repetition is necessary for perfection. I was a teacher so I get that. It’s just.so.boring. I’ve heard before that truly intelligent people do not get bored, so I know what admitting this says about me.
Evidence all around me proves my struggle with monotony is a lonely battle. There are many individuals who have remained in the same job or with the same company for years upon years. It always seems to have worked out for them, vacation hour wise & knowledge wise. They know the lay of the land and have looked far enough ahead to be stoked that the next 3 company holidays create 3 day weekends. I’m honestly a bit jealous of these people. They are further along in their careers and take home larger paychecks than the new kid on the block (i.e. Me). I wish I was built like them- built for the long haul. But…I’m just not. I get antsy. I crave change. I’ve held at least 26 different positions (click here to see the growing list) and lived, to the best of my recollection, in 17 different locations, all under a 20 mile radius. Why am I like this?
My dad gave me career advice when I was a teenager, when I didn’t think he knew a thing about me. He said I should be a meteorologist or an airline stewardess because waking up early every single day to teach was not going to fit me. This man knew my sleeping habits, but I didn’t listen. I currently have an extremely high accuracy at predicting when Indiana is going to throw rain our way and I desire experiencing locations all around the world. God love my dad~he never utters, “I told you so.”
Thankfully something about teaching kept my interest. I stuck it out for 15 years and I wasn’t miserable the entire time. Admittedly, using the same manuals 7 years in a row wasn’t riveting, but the students and families were different every year. I have dabbled in the business world since I was 14 and have been knee deep in it for 4 years straight. Change-ups in corporations are an anomaly. I clock in. I do the exact same things I did the day before. I clock out, and hit repeat.
My 18-year-old son says I should chin up and be thankful I am able to work, especially in unsettled times. I know he’s right. I know the right thing to do is find what to appreciate in my now while happily anticipating more. My goal is to ooze what Abraham Hicks has coined ‘Satisfaction on Steroids‘. I know to appreciate that my job is flexible. I am not required to wear a uniform and I can ‘joke’ about drinking. I complete my required tasks in the order that works for my mood. I don’t have to deal with weather conditions (outside of an air condition setting at chill bump degrees). With certainty, I know my check will be in my account every Friday. My employer feeds us lunch at least a few times a month. I have not had to participate in, nor do I predict an assignment like the Great Staple Project of 2019. Most everyone I work with is kind. I am extremely lucky and hit a home run when considering working conditions and longevity, having been a part of the Essential Crew this past spring.
My soul starts the day chipper and positive. Around 10 o’clock, I start eyeballing the clock. Salary pay trained me to be efficient; the hourly life doesn’t care if the work is done early. After 8 hours of being trapped inside four walls, watching Indiana’s few, fleeting warm months pass me by outside and then a near hour drive home on 465, my soul is completely depleted. That soul does not care that my son is right. It questions how this ‘norm’ can even be considered normal. I spend most of my awake time performing menial tasks to make wealthy people more wealthy. While my kids are still young enough to form and enjoy, I am exhausted when I spend with them. At the rate my retirement money is currently increasing, I will have ample time on my hands when my children are grown and busy with lives and families of their own. I’m frustrated.
I’ve learned that nearly nothing is ever black and white, but at the moment I’m viewing income in two perspectives: I can exchange my crushed soul for a comfy, consistent paycheck (with benefits) or I can enjoy my daily life while taking a free-fall risk doing what I enjoy, crossing my fingers that work will keep flowing my way.
I want to wake up, paint some walls, teach a child or adult how to read, work on a website or two and write. I will get out of this funk with forward thinking. I will write my updated Letter to the Universe. I will meditate. Everything will work itself out. For now, on this rainy weekend, I’m committed to studying Bill Murray’s sarcastic wit so that I am well stocked and fully loaded with comments this upcoming work week.