Wednesday, September 22, 2010

"The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care."

I have a nasty case of work depression. Outside of work, I'm perfectly happy. For the most part. On the weekends I'm freaking manic. I love everything about my weekends (except going to the grocery store). But during the week, I am crabby and morose and unmotivated. I have plenty to do but am not challenged. So I have these fantasies about going back to school, which I know is total craziness, as I cannot even manage to keep groceries in the house (see above) or keep the laundry clean; how do I think I'm going to have time to take classes, write papers and -- eek! -- possibly even a dissertation?  But my brain is craving some kind of intellectual stimulation, 'cause I ain't gettin' it at work.

Basically, I am here for the paycheck and the time off. I get very little out of my actual work. I suppose that's how it is for most people, but I really wanted to be someone who loved her work, who was excited by it, who did something with her talents and interests. Yes, I get to write, and that's good. But it's not about anything I'm interested in. And then there's the added "bonus" of secretarial work, which I'm sure I've bitched about in this space before.

It feels a little late to make a career change, with or without going back to school. Plus, I'm not even positive about what I'd change to. I have thought that maybe I need a life coach. But I don't think one would be able to tell me anything I don't already know (set goals! make time lines!). Or maybe I need to get serious about yoga again. To have something to look forward to, to ease my agitation, to become better at being in the moment.  I have tried, really I have, but have only been able to make it to one class and that was a month ago. There always seems to be something else going on in the evenings (no, not just TV) that prevents me from getting to class. And yoga alone in your bedroom is just not the same.

Anyway, I really, really wanted to pull a Peter Gibbons today ("I'm not gonna go."). But it's only Wednesday, and I would have to come in tomorrow because I'm training someone, and Friday nearly everyone will be out so it will be a good day to be here. So, I got up and got ready for work, put on some extra jewelry and my favorite shoes and perfume (hey, sometimes it helps), stopped at Starbucks and blasted Madonna and U2 in the car, all in an effort to motivate myself to be a good little worker today. I know I should be grateful to have a job; I know plenty of people who are still unemployed after two or three years. And I am grateful. I'm just bored.