I am entering what seems to be a dangerous time. My straight job is kicking the hell out of my work ethic. I have begun to move through my work day in the abstract, without any part of it seeming to enter into reality.
It is not as if my work doesn't get done or that I hate my job. My job just doesn't stick to me anymore. (I really hope my boss is not one of the few people who read this blog) I go through my day and I accomplish my tasks. I am just as organized, if not more so, than I ever was. It is not like moving through a dream or just killing time while I am at the office. Tuesday evening I was working late, getting out two bids, and not even minding the passage of time. The problem with my job is a lot more insidious than simply disliking it.
The work that I do for money has become an abstract. I go to the office and the meetings, I get out my bids and manage my projects. I do my job and I try to do it well, including getting into trouble for saying things that need saying and that no one wants to hear. The issue is that at the end of the day, all of that has passed through me seemingly without making the slightest impact. If it were not for the money involved, I would just shake it off like a passing whim. I know many people would say the same thing and many people go to their work only for the paycheck. I understand that but for me, this is almost like a movie that I am watching myself act a part in. I am in it, but I am not in it, even while I am there.
The weird thing is that I am not being unaware while I am at work. I am trying to be just as mindful during my work day as any other time, but the work time itself is elusive. I know that I am leaving for a month, a dangerous thing in and of itself, and that this may be impacting my perceptions. Also, other options are presenting themselves and I am at an age (argh!) where I can actually look ahead to retirement as an option, albeit distant. I am allowing myself the idea that I could mine a book from the research that I am doing and that writing may be an option for making money instead of making fat men wealthier.
My son turns eighteen in less than two and a half years. After that, I suddenly have a lot more of my money to keep in my pocket, officially at least. I don't need to spend it on anything else so it just means I need less money from working.
All of these things are contributing to some serious reconsideration of my work life. I don't want any part of my life to be an abstract. I also don't want to sound whiny or to allow myself to think that I am alone in this predicament. I empathize with the millions of others who are in the same predicament. Having expiated my selfishness, I will now return to it.
Given the events of late, nothing has illustrated the futility of continuing in my present employment more than starting the book research and buying back a month of my life to devote to travel. The sneaking truth of both of these things is that neither of them are going to reinforce my need to go to my present employ every day. Quite the opposite. Travel makes me want to travel more and research makes me want to write Perhaps setting out on both of these endeavors is my subconscious minds' way of dealing with what my conscious mind refuses to deal with.
I am worried about returning from a month away. I am worried that this may be the end of my ability to deal with the abstract and that I will wind up broke and homeless and eating kibbles on the street. Wait did I really write that? Have my internal filters failed that badly already. Uh Oh.
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