I know that I am going to be loopy tomorrow, but I can’t sleep right now since work has gotten me too keyed up to relax. Seriously, at this point, if I am fired, I would be the happiest person on the planet. They can take the house, the car and almost every possession. As long as I have a laptop, a power source and a wi-fi connection, I can write and do what I feel I was meant to do. I am just tired of having to bite my tongue when I am the one being called a liar at work because the sales people are the ones who are making it hard on me. Honestly, if I get another ass-hat on my phone tomorrow; I will stand up, gather my things and just walk out. One person who reads this blog (and such a benighted soul she is) understands what I am talking about since she worked in the same company I do. Seriously, most of my job is helping people – but it’s those few salesmen that I have to deal with… or more accurately, clean up their messes – that make me want to throw my hands up in the air and just hand the keys of the house over to the bank and say ‘Here you go, nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy.‘
I acknowledge that I complain about my job and my life circumstances, and I also acknowledge that only I can change these things. However, the cost of changing them may be too high right now. I know that it is in my best interest to hang in there… but I feel that I have been doing that for far too long. As the Bard said: … and thus conscience makes cowards of us all. Of course, when that was spoken, it was suicide that was being contemplated, not foreclosure – but in my circumstance, it’s the same thing. To be honest, I feel at times that I am still at this job because it’s expected of me. I signed the papers and took the job. I better appreciate what Tyler Durden’s point he was trying to make in this speech. I don’t really have a house or a car or a TV or anything, really. All I have are a list of obligations – giri to use the Japanese term, but that’s sounds just as hollow. Giri is bound in honor and unswerving loyalty to your master, even if it calls for death. Is this it? Is my diamyo a bank – a huge faceless thing that reminds me that my duty is as light as a feather… or a headset in my case? Should I try to buck the heuristic learning of my parents who had the only concern that I stay employed, no matter the mental or emotional cost? I’ve spoken that when I am at work, I feel like I’m drowning. I know that one thing that I feel I’ve been called to do, and I want to run to it with the abandon reserved for lovers – but at the same time, I like that I have a roof over my head and a car in the driveway.
Am I the only one who has this issue? Or am I the only one who’s talking about it?