Today is another day I tried to talk myself into quitting my job.
Every
time I fantasize about walking out of the office or a meeting - just
like that - and never come back, my reason (called motherly sense of
responsibility) kicks in and advises me not to be so hot-headed....to
think a few steps ahead and the fact that I have children to feed and
clothe.....to weigh the risks. And once my head is done with my wild
inspiration, all my valor has usually dissipated and all that is left is
frustration, simmering anger, and stress, manifesting itself with heart ache and the activation of my
lacrimal glands.
I am tired of the office politics. I am tired of the liars, the
intrigues, the gossip, the laziness, the bad decision making and lack of
expertise or professional/interpersonal grace all around me. Not
everyone around me is despicable, of course. I have a lot of very lovely
colleagues. Unfortunately, the environment as a whole is toxic,
unproductive, and the anti-thesis to collaboration, for people have
nothing but attacks or criticism for each other's ideas. It's maddening.
But what is most upsetting is the fact that I got stuck in a place
where I should most definitely not have settled. Now I am so deep into
it that it's going to take a lot of gut to step out of it all and build a
new career, a new life. It is incredibly frightening to take the risk
and quit in THIS economy (which experts refer to no longer as a
recession but a full fledged depression). This fear creates a sort of
paralysis which keeps me straight on my commute to work, leaves me put
on my uncomfortable, back-breaking office chair, smiling at everyone as
if nothing were wrong and as if I loved my job.
I am good at what I do... but it is an empty existence. Who the hell
cares about what I do? It is irrelevant to this world. I want to make a
change. Not only creatively but also with non-profit work (helping the
needy).
I am the type of person who would be glad to report on the front lines of a war...what the hell am I doing in IT?
Of
course, just because I would like to be a (photo-)journalist on the
front, doesn't mean I have the luxury to do so anymore. At least, that's
how I see it. I owe it to my young daughters to make sure I keep my
stable job, don't jump off any cliffs or travel into war-zones. It's not
about me anymore....but I am dying here (no pun intended).
And, of course, I am not.
I know, how lucky I am to have what
I have. I am LUCKY _not_ to live in a war zone, I am blessed to have
healthy children, my own health, a roof over my head, a secure job, food
on my table. And I don't forget to thank God for these privileges every
day, many times a day. ... But, ... still I feel like I must make a
change and take a risk, for if I don't, I think, I'll internalize all
this stress and make myself sick.
I read a quote on happiness the other day....I'm paraphrasing: "10%
is about what life gives you and 90% is about how you take it." ....
I'm usually pretty good at adhering to this kind of credo but sometimes
(or lately) I am overwhelmed by how I seem to have wasted my potential. I
am turning 38 this year. 3-8! .... I need to take action soon or it
will be too late to really build something new....
I want to curl up and cry now.
But, I'm going to have to get back to my to-do list and email attacks from the management.
