Honestly, I don't have to wonder about why work sucks. It just does. I mean, it's work, right? One of the most annoying but true statements is that they call work work for a reason and that if it were fun, they would call it fun. But they call it work because it's work. Or something like that. I don't know, I'm at work right now and my brain is on backwards.
How could work not suck? If you're like most of us, you're at someone else's beck and call, you're working for less than you probably should be, and you probably don't enjoy what you do all that much. You get told when to arrive and when you can leave. You only get so much time for lunch and you're dealing with office politics of some sort. You probably have some co-workers that annoy you to no end and you can't tell people what you are really thinking. Ever. Basically, it's a stifling environment that keeps us all from doing things that we enjoy. Which sucks.
I think work isn't fun mostly because it isn't supposed to be. But why is that? I hate that I don't know anyone who truly LOVES their job. Meaning, I don't know anyone whose passion is their job and the one person I did know who was following her passion is now hating it because it has become work. Which sucks. It's a vicious, sucky cycle.
I guess I just always think about how many hours a day I'm wasting away behind a desk and answering to someone else who couldn't care less about me outside of the four walls of this big office building. I dream about all of the things I would rather be doing -- sleeping, talking to friends, breathing fresh air, taking pictures, reading a good book, watching television, traveling with my husband, eating Cheetos by the pool -- instead of being at work.
I think a lot of people view work as an albatross around their neck and I hate that too. I mean, we're all working to pay bills. The job is a means to an end, I suppose, which is eating and having the big, flashy box spring to life when you hit the power button. I can't help but think that all of the hours we're spending at work are such a waste in the long run. I mean, I spend more hours at work a day than I spend doing things that are fun and that would enrich my life in some way.
I appreciate having a job that allows me to pay my bills, do something to help the world, and to help pay for some of the fun things that I really do enjoy. I just hate that I feel like so many hours of work hardly translates into the few hours I get to actually enjoy myself during the rest of my life. So, work? Can suck it.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
I Wonder Why Work Stinks
Wicked M and I have joked many times over the years about our bosses/places of employ: “Don’t they know I have socializing to do/online shopping to complete/naps to take? I keep getting things to do as if they actually expect me to earn my pay!”
Well, I can firmly blame my lack of consistent posting since August on work. And that stinks, b/c I looove you guys! And I love having the time to wonder over things and share my ideas. And I love being able to sip my coffee and catch up on every post and every comment—here and on my friends' personal blogs.
So I can say with a great deal of certainty: work stinks b/c we are not allowed to goof off. Now, there are some jobs (professional comedian, pastry chef, finger-painter) where your flights of fancy are pretty much what keeps you in your livelihood. But like super j said, unless you have one of those jobs (don’t slag on models, super j! Modeling is HARD! As we will discuss soon when we wonder about “America’s Next Top Model.”), you’re pretty much stuck answering to someone else, doing things you don’t really want to be doing, and searching for someone with whom to complain about it.
If everyone who clocks in (literally or figuratively) were allowed to do so at his/her own leisure, and were given the chance to accomplish a set amount of work for each day but were allowed to use the other time as he/she saw fit, I think we’d have a lot fewer sick days. I’m proud of super j for not lying about that—I’ve done it once and it felt very sinful. If I knew that I wouldn’t have to sneak to do my post or check on what Television Without Pity snarked about last night’s premiere of “Heroes,” I’d be much more eager about leaving the house and the TV. I’m sure that all of us are pretty productive people—our priorities just might not be 100% with work all the time.
I know that there are corporations who encourage (and sometimes even mandate) afternoon naptime—but we can’t all work there. My justification for making work stink less is that I’m not a smoker. And therefore, the four ten-minute breaks I’d take during the day to step out for a cigarette are instead used to goof off. I refuse to feel guilty about it, most of the time.
Except at the beginning of the school year. That’s an entirely different kind of work-stink. I return to you today from the beyond, confident that my goofing-off time is returning to me after four loooong weeks of no time for even thinking about goofing off. How have you been? Missed you! Love you!
Well, I can firmly blame my lack of consistent posting since August on work. And that stinks, b/c I looove you guys! And I love having the time to wonder over things and share my ideas. And I love being able to sip my coffee and catch up on every post and every comment—here and on my friends' personal blogs.
So I can say with a great deal of certainty: work stinks b/c we are not allowed to goof off. Now, there are some jobs (professional comedian, pastry chef, finger-painter) where your flights of fancy are pretty much what keeps you in your livelihood. But like super j said, unless you have one of those jobs (don’t slag on models, super j! Modeling is HARD! As we will discuss soon when we wonder about “America’s Next Top Model.”), you’re pretty much stuck answering to someone else, doing things you don’t really want to be doing, and searching for someone with whom to complain about it.
If everyone who clocks in (literally or figuratively) were allowed to do so at his/her own leisure, and were given the chance to accomplish a set amount of work for each day but were allowed to use the other time as he/she saw fit, I think we’d have a lot fewer sick days. I’m proud of super j for not lying about that—I’ve done it once and it felt very sinful. If I knew that I wouldn’t have to sneak to do my post or check on what Television Without Pity snarked about last night’s premiere of “Heroes,” I’d be much more eager about leaving the house and the TV. I’m sure that all of us are pretty productive people—our priorities just might not be 100% with work all the time.
I know that there are corporations who encourage (and sometimes even mandate) afternoon naptime—but we can’t all work there. My justification for making work stink less is that I’m not a smoker. And therefore, the four ten-minute breaks I’d take during the day to step out for a cigarette are instead used to goof off. I refuse to feel guilty about it, most of the time.
Except at the beginning of the school year. That’s an entirely different kind of work-stink. I return to you today from the beyond, confident that my goofing-off time is returning to me after four loooong weeks of no time for even thinking about goofing off. How have you been? Missed you! Love you!
Monday, September 24, 2007
i wonder why work sucks.
it's monday and i didn't sleep well last night and i'd rather be doing anything else in the world besides what i'm (supposed to be) doing - work. my colleague and i joked this morning that all weekend we sat around thinking, "boy, do i wish it were monday. i just can't wait to get back to work." it provided us some laughs, but not enough to make up for the fact that we are indeed stuck here for 8.5 hours today. i almost called into work sick this morning, but decided not to. i haven't worked a full work week since last month, so i felt a little guilty. besides, what would i say when everyone would inevitably ask me what was wrong with me? i can't stand to lie, so i dragged my tired behind (or biscuit - that still makes me laugh, wicked m!) out of bed and into my office.
does any gal out there really like her job? i mean, really, truly, can't-imagine-not-working love her job? okay, perhaps there are a few out there who can't imagine not working, but she's probably a model or sports star or something like that. what about us typical gals? why does work suck so much for us?
my job is okay and i don't loathe it, but it still sucks because, let's face it, work sucks. it requires us to get out of bed early and actually use our brains to think about something for 8 hrs. there are some days when my mind is super clear and can race through any given task with little effort or resistance. but then there are other days (like today) when it takes every ounce of energy i can muster in order to run a report.
the worst things about my job are the stress and the fact that i'm not with my family. i wouldn't say that my job is totally high stress, but there is a fair amount of it. every day i have these panic moments when i think, "ohmygosh, i think i just reallllly messed up someone's account." and my heart always beats a mile a minute when i download my reports from the state. i'm terrified i will do something wrong and end up costing the university tons of money. plus, students can get a bit testy when you're talking dollars with them. i always love it when those sweet, young students drop the f-bomb in my office. that always makes for a lovely day.
my daughters are notorious for loading on the guilt when i walk out the door each morning. leah is usually the first one up and we're able to spend a bit of time together before i head out the door. today, she sat with me while i ate my breakfast and then sat on my bathroom floor and colored me pictures of kittens while i showered. and nearly every day, she'll hug me tight around my neck, tell me she loves me, and then asks if i could please take her to school. which i can't. and that sucks.
typically, alana wakes up right as i'm heading out the door. she doesn't say much in the morning, but does love to snuggle. she'll walk out of her room and yell "MOMMMMMY!" i'll hold her for a few minutes on the couch and inevitably super jas will have to peel her off of me as she screams and yells "MOMMMMMMY" and tears roll down her cheeks. most days, i arrive at work a few minutes late, but i don't mind. there are much more important things in life like snuggling with your sleepy baby or coloring kittens drinking milk in a coloring book than being at my desk by 8am.
unfortunately, work is something that we all have to do unless we've won the powerball. we put up with the crap and the stress and the guilt of it all to pay our bills and make our way through life. it's a fact of life but, that still doesn't mean that it can't suck, right?
does any gal out there really like her job? i mean, really, truly, can't-imagine-not-working love her job? okay, perhaps there are a few out there who can't imagine not working, but she's probably a model or sports star or something like that. what about us typical gals? why does work suck so much for us?
my job is okay and i don't loathe it, but it still sucks because, let's face it, work sucks. it requires us to get out of bed early and actually use our brains to think about something for 8 hrs. there are some days when my mind is super clear and can race through any given task with little effort or resistance. but then there are other days (like today) when it takes every ounce of energy i can muster in order to run a report.
the worst things about my job are the stress and the fact that i'm not with my family. i wouldn't say that my job is totally high stress, but there is a fair amount of it. every day i have these panic moments when i think, "ohmygosh, i think i just reallllly messed up someone's account." and my heart always beats a mile a minute when i download my reports from the state. i'm terrified i will do something wrong and end up costing the university tons of money. plus, students can get a bit testy when you're talking dollars with them. i always love it when those sweet, young students drop the f-bomb in my office. that always makes for a lovely day.
my daughters are notorious for loading on the guilt when i walk out the door each morning. leah is usually the first one up and we're able to spend a bit of time together before i head out the door. today, she sat with me while i ate my breakfast and then sat on my bathroom floor and colored me pictures of kittens while i showered. and nearly every day, she'll hug me tight around my neck, tell me she loves me, and then asks if i could please take her to school. which i can't. and that sucks.
typically, alana wakes up right as i'm heading out the door. she doesn't say much in the morning, but does love to snuggle. she'll walk out of her room and yell "MOMMMMMY!" i'll hold her for a few minutes on the couch and inevitably super jas will have to peel her off of me as she screams and yells "MOMMMMMMY" and tears roll down her cheeks. most days, i arrive at work a few minutes late, but i don't mind. there are much more important things in life like snuggling with your sleepy baby or coloring kittens drinking milk in a coloring book than being at my desk by 8am.
unfortunately, work is something that we all have to do unless we've won the powerball. we put up with the crap and the stress and the guilt of it all to pay our bills and make our way through life. it's a fact of life but, that still doesn't mean that it can't suck, right?
Friday, September 21, 2007
i wonder where the time went.
last weekend, we celebrated my oldest daughter's 5th birthday. it's hard to believe that 5 years have passed since she came into our lives. how is it possible that she is that old already?
the more i thought about her age and how quickly 5 years passed, the more i thought of other moments that made me think, "huh. really? it's been that long?" here are a few:
1) i've known my fellow ww for 11 years now.
2) i graduated from college 7 years ago.
3) i am nearly 30 years old.
4) my oldest friend jess (whom i still keep in touch with) and i have been friends for 23 years!
5) i've been driving for 13 years.
6) my grandfather passed away 17 years ago.
7) my parents have lived too, too far away from me for 10 years.
8) i've been building up my 401k for 7 years.
9) my husband had 2 brain surgeries almost 7 years ago.
10) i haven't seen a professional football game in 19 years.
there are many, many more that i could add to the list. it is truly amazing how quickly time passes by. just another reminder that we need to savor the time we have and try and not let time escape from right underneath us.
the more i thought about her age and how quickly 5 years passed, the more i thought of other moments that made me think, "huh. really? it's been that long?" here are a few:
1) i've known my fellow ww for 11 years now.
2) i graduated from college 7 years ago.
3) i am nearly 30 years old.
4) my oldest friend jess (whom i still keep in touch with) and i have been friends for 23 years!
5) i've been driving for 13 years.
6) my grandfather passed away 17 years ago.
7) my parents have lived too, too far away from me for 10 years.
8) i've been building up my 401k for 7 years.
9) my husband had 2 brain surgeries almost 7 years ago.
10) i haven't seen a professional football game in 19 years.
there are many, many more that i could add to the list. it is truly amazing how quickly time passes by. just another reminder that we need to savor the time we have and try and not let time escape from right underneath us.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
These Kids Are Making Me Crazy
I've just cleaned up three rounds of doggie diarrhea, so I'm having a difficult time focusing on weird things I do. I think I've got it, though. **Oh my goodness, the sight of my 3 month old puppy humping his humongous stuffed warthog almost made it fly out of my head. OK, ok it's still there. I'll send the dog to another room so my husband can keep track of him, and then I can focus.**
All right. Husband is unavailable, so we'll just toss Mr. Warthog over by the door and continue. I do a few weird things, **but now that the cat and the dog are fighting over who gets to rip the insulation out of the door frame behind me, I'd better just go ahead and pick one so I can finish this up and then kill some animals, or possibly myself.**
I sleep with one arm flung above my head. Straight up there. Not straight into the air, but straight into the headboard, which means I have to scrunch far enough toward the foot of the bed to make room for it. It's my right arm. Darlin' sleeps to my right, so often we will be nose to armpit. After a few fragrant moments, Darlin' will inevitably wake up, yawn, grasp me 'round the wrist, and shove the arm back where it belongs. I'll roll over, snort grumpily, and sneak it back up. It's hard for me to sleep if I can't have this arm way out in space. **If this fecking dog doesn't stop nipping my feet I swear we will have corgi flambe for dinner tonight.**
In the mornings, when Darlin' takes the Schmup out for a morning trot, Schmitty Cat comes into our bedroom and nestles into my opened pit (while I, yes Wicked M, snooze along to my snooze button at least twice). She likes to curl up in there, unlike my husband, who prefers non-B.O.-related smells like cookies and garlic toast and freshly washed Schmuppy Dog. **Which we get to smell often since he frequently requires baths, like tonight when we pooped and then walked in it and tracked it all over the floor.**
Besides this weird behavior, I also have this crazy habit of adopting freaking animals who drive me crazier. Possibly the arm stretching sleeping thing occurred at the same time as we adopted our cat and I started losing my mind. The world may never know.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
I Wonder Why I...
I wonder why I can't use the snooze button. I've never been able to. I mean, I realize that getting an extra seven minutes of sleep is the greatest thing since sliced bread for some people. I get it. But it just doesn't make sense to me. I mean, just set the alarm for seven minutes later and then get up!
Clearly I grew up in a home where the snooze button was not allowed. I don't even think I knew what the snooze button was for until I left for college. One of my roommates LOVED her snooze button and used it at least four times every morning. It was the most annoying thing ever.
I suppose it helps that I'm a morning person. As soon as my alarm goes off, I usually get right out of bed and jump into my day. I realize not everyone greets their day with the same enthusiasm, but I just do not understand the snooze button plan. I mean, I don't really think you are getting quality sleep once you slam that snooze button and flop back onto your pillow. I would just lay awake wondering how long seven minutes can really feel and how much longer until the buzzing buzzer (or radio) starts blaring again. It stresses me out.
I've also discovered that I have another curious behavior when it comes to the morning alarm. If Superman's alarm goes off before mine, I cannot go back to sleep until I am positive he's gotten out of bed. For whatever reason, I can't let myself relax and fall back into dreamland until I know he's gotten out of bed and has started with his day. I mean, the alarm is there for a reason and the reason is to get you up -- not to give you a warning and then let you sleep for another three hours and not to scream at you every seven minutes until you decide to drag yourself out of bed.
The sound of the alarm going off in the morning isn't a sound I relish hearing, but the snooze button and I will never be friends.
**I know people love their snooze buttons. Please do not hate me for my snooze button disdain. It's just never been a part of my routine. Love me. Please.
Clearly I grew up in a home where the snooze button was not allowed. I don't even think I knew what the snooze button was for until I left for college. One of my roommates LOVED her snooze button and used it at least four times every morning. It was the most annoying thing ever.
I suppose it helps that I'm a morning person. As soon as my alarm goes off, I usually get right out of bed and jump into my day. I realize not everyone greets their day with the same enthusiasm, but I just do not understand the snooze button plan. I mean, I don't really think you are getting quality sleep once you slam that snooze button and flop back onto your pillow. I would just lay awake wondering how long seven minutes can really feel and how much longer until the buzzing buzzer (or radio) starts blaring again. It stresses me out.
I've also discovered that I have another curious behavior when it comes to the morning alarm. If Superman's alarm goes off before mine, I cannot go back to sleep until I am positive he's gotten out of bed. For whatever reason, I can't let myself relax and fall back into dreamland until I know he's gotten out of bed and has started with his day. I mean, the alarm is there for a reason and the reason is to get you up -- not to give you a warning and then let you sleep for another three hours and not to scream at you every seven minutes until you decide to drag yourself out of bed.
The sound of the alarm going off in the morning isn't a sound I relish hearing, but the snooze button and I will never be friends.
**I know people love their snooze buttons. Please do not hate me for my snooze button disdain. It's just never been a part of my routine. Love me. Please.
Monday, September 17, 2007
i wonder why i ____________(insert weird habit/behavior here).
as i was grocery shopping the other day, i made an interesting observation about myself. i buy most everything in 3s. i bought 3 cans of pringles; 3 boxes of fruit snacks, 3 cans of crescent rolls; 3 packages of beef; 3 jars of pizza sauce; etc, etc.
it struck me as odd for a couple of reasons:
1) who does that?
2) why am i just now realizing that about myself?
i'm honestly annoyed by this newly discovered shopping habit and have been thinking about it since my shopping spree. (is it bad if you annoy yourself?) i'm not infatuated with the number 3. i've never played the lottery and i don't have any lucky numbers that are multiples of 3. i'm not even a superstitious kind of a gal (for the most part anyway). i've been trying to figure out why i settled on this particular number and i think i've come up with a reason. it makes sense to me, but perhaps everyone else may think it's just a bizarre form of ocd. my explanation for it is this: if i purchase only 1 i may run out. buying 2 just doesn't seem like enough. and purchasing 4 is obviously overboard. so, that leaves me with buying 3 of any given food item.
i'm trying to come to terms with this, but i'm struggling a bit. i just hope i don't think about it each and every time i'm in the grocery store - although i somehow doubt that it will happen. maybe i'll just have to send super jas to do the shopping from now on. hmmm...now i may be on to something.
it struck me as odd for a couple of reasons:
1) who does that?
2) why am i just now realizing that about myself?
i'm honestly annoyed by this newly discovered shopping habit and have been thinking about it since my shopping spree. (is it bad if you annoy yourself?) i'm not infatuated with the number 3. i've never played the lottery and i don't have any lucky numbers that are multiples of 3. i'm not even a superstitious kind of a gal (for the most part anyway). i've been trying to figure out why i settled on this particular number and i think i've come up with a reason. it makes sense to me, but perhaps everyone else may think it's just a bizarre form of ocd. my explanation for it is this: if i purchase only 1 i may run out. buying 2 just doesn't seem like enough. and purchasing 4 is obviously overboard. so, that leaves me with buying 3 of any given food item.
i'm trying to come to terms with this, but i'm struggling a bit. i just hope i don't think about it each and every time i'm in the grocery store - although i somehow doubt that it will happen. maybe i'll just have to send super jas to do the shopping from now on. hmmm...now i may be on to something.
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