Most Friday mornings brings on a few mixed feelings. The first is usually a bit of happiness, because it is Friday, which happens to be the last day of work before the weekend, which I have off. Then I sit up on the edge of the bed, and start to get up. The joints snap, crackle, and pop as I get up on my feet, making me wonder why I do the job I do. I start feeling like I am not cut out for this type of job. The daily physical requirements just make me ache and feel sore by this time every week. I know I am not some twenty-something, able to do manual labor all day, all week long. By the time Monday rolls around, I am not as achy, and we start this whole process over.
Half the time, while I am feeling like I can't do the job anymore, I start wondering how far I see myself doing this work. If I were to quit, or find a "better" job, how would that be. Then the pessimism comes up - what if I messed up on something bad enough or enough times that they fire me. What will I do? Finally I just tell myself to get over it, get through today, and we'll deal with the rest later. Then I go pee. Yeah. That whole 30 minute argument happens in my head in the 20 seconds it takes to get to the bathroom.
Indecisiveness? Insecurity? Maybe a bit of both? I don't know. Everything would be much simpler if I had a job I really loved. Don't get me wrong. I like my job. It is "okay". I don't want to do it forever. I don't think I am physically able to do it forever. I force myself not to daydream at times, about having a dream job. I don't even know what I would consider a dream job. Sometimes on my route, I see the bill board ads for the Lotto or Powerball lotteries. I think, what would I do if I were to win. Of course, I don't play. Maybe I should start. I chastise myself when I catch myself fantasizing about what things I would like to do. Waste of time.
I'm sure some docs would argue it is healthy to fantasize somewhat, but why depress myself more? Instead, I'll just think about it being Saturday tomorrow ...