Sitting behind a desk all day, all I can do is look out the window, open the front door, sigh, and say, "It's sunny out there."
I don't think I was meant to have an office job.
I mean, I'm a good worker, a hard worker, a smart person, and an impassioned businesswoman. But too often I've let the work take over me, let the job define me. When I am working, I gain weight. I drink too much. I don't sleep enough. I don't smile enough. And I'm always left wanting more out of my coworkers, more out of my salary, more out of life.
In truth, I don't need very much money to live on. I don't need very much money to be happy. But if I'm working at all, I'm working hard. I just can't help it. And if I'm going to work that hard, I'd like to be compensated for it.
So I can think of only a couple of choices: work on something I really really care about, work outdoors, or send myself on a permanent vacation.
When I'm traveling (which hardly feels like "vacation," since I'm rarely resting), I take care of myself. I get massages. I go to bed early and get up at sunrise. I never miss a sunset. I drink lots of water, and I drink less alcohol. I live; I learn; I laugh; I love. I let people in instead of pushing them away.
(Then again, I also don't wash my hair, and I have fallen more than once and now have given myself a concussion.)
Why can't I sustain that when I return to normality? Why can't I take care of myself when I have a job?
Why does work have to be obligatory, erosive, draining, and divisive? Why can't it be fulfilling, pleasurable, nurturing, and sustainable? "Well, then it wouldn't be 'work,'" people always tell me.
What if they're right?
People also say I'm a spoiled brat when they hear that I don't want to work at all (even though I was dying for a job in high school and my parents wouldn't let me).
But maybe I just haven't found the right job yet.
I Am Not-Working
Vacation vs Work
By Its Right Name
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