Sometimes I stop and think: if I stopped working, would my world move forward? The obvious answer is yes. The world would move forward. Roll recklessly, perhaps. It would move forward more quickly than I wanted it to, with its bills and its demands, and the moving forward would involve me starting to work again.
I'm afraid I'm beginning to be a workaholic. I stay home sick--and still end up putting in five hours of work. (Granted, it wasn't the full eight, but doesn't it say something that I had work at home with me that I could actually do that?) When I come into the office, I feel an instant energy drain.
To what can a girl attribute something like this? Looking back to January, I remember a perky girl, all excited to buy dress pants and dress shoes and button-up shirts and "play professional." That girl was excited about playing dress-up. The girl sitting here right now, typing, wants to go home and find a book. Drink some cocoa. Curl up on the couch and not have to go anywhere for days and days if she doesn't want to.
Responsibility is a gift, I guess, but it's also a burden.
2 comments:
You know, I don't work much, but my life still rolls on. Sorta. Though I gotsta say, as someone who is looking for a career gal, it always makes me glad to see workin ladies.
But what about workin ladies who hate their jobs?
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