I wrote this last week. For some reason I didn’t publish it….I thought about tossing it, because I feel a little bit better today. Then I remembered that’s because I’m doing one of my favorite parts of the job: I’m in Houston, getting ready for one of our events tomorrow. While the travel can be draining, the thrill of the event is wonderful. The sense of accomplishment is awesome. And the people I will meet will no doubt amaze me.
But I need to remember that these weekends aren’t all of my job. And I need to weight if they’re enough of my job or not….and now I’m ahead of you, so here you go:
I’ve been waking up every morning with a sense of dread. It’s not too different than the sense of dread that lulled me to sleep. Yesterday, I looked past my sleeping husband to see the clock illuminate 4:44. In other words, too early for me to be up. Too early for me to be worrying about things. Too early for me to feel sick to my stomach – all because of my job.
This morning, it was 3:45 when I first woke up worried.
I love my job.
I love what I do. I love that I have purpose. I love that it’s a good thing.
I hate that it never goes away. When I shut down my computer at the end of a long day, it’s not a real shut down, but rather a hiatus. After a drive home periodically checking my BB for urgent updates, I sit on the couch and open my laptop. Resume work.
Weekends are filled with me keeping one eye on the weekend, the other on my BB. And when I elect to “turn off” and really disconnect from it all, it keeps me up at night and eats away at me. I worry about what I’m missing, if something came up, if something should have been done. I work with volunteers so the nature of the beast is that they work nights and weekends. They often expect (or at least would like) immediate responses.
Maybe I’m just not the kind of person that can do this long term. Maybe I’m just not the kind of person that wants to. My anxiety is making me nauseous in the mornings, to the point where brushing my teeth can set off a gag reflex that leaves me leaning over the sink desperate to keep whatever’s in my stomach in my stomach.
Bottom line: This is not good for me.
I often jokingly ask Long Board if I can have a baby now so that I can quit my job and stay home. He always laughs and says, “Not yet!!!”
Last night, I had to tell him I wasn’t joking. Well, at least about the job part. I’m on board with us waiting a little longer for Baby, but I’m not sure how much longer I can do this job. I think he always thought I just didn’t want to work….I’d hidden from him a lot of the stress and drama of the job. He knew the long hours were taking a toll….he knew the travel was tough on us. He didn’t realize how I was internalizing everything that was going on. How I feel badly about myself after being “wrong” all day. He didn’t realize how little I slept during the night. He didn’t understand that I feel like this job is keeping me from being the wife that I want to be – the person that I want to be.
Now, I get it. Working sucks. There are a few people that have the awesome luxury of loving what they do. The rest of us drag on day after day. I’m not delusional enough to think that I deserve better. That I’m different and don’t need to be just another working stiff. I just need to find something that I can do where work stays at work. Where I can hate my job but at least love being at home because the work doesn’t follow me there.
Thankfully, after a long and honest conversation, Long Board was the loving and supportive and amazing guy I can forget that he is. His offer: hold out until he gets his full-time gig (should be in December) so that I can get on his health insurance and everything and then I can quit.
Now, he’s not exactly on board with me being a stay at home wife, haha, but at least we can explore the option of something else. I’ve got a few ideas, so stay tuned!