Okay, I hate my job. I’m trying my best to get out – using networks, agencies, websites, the works. Even then, it takes time. There are a lot of dead ends and the last thing I want is to end up in another job I hate.
Until the magic day arrives, I need to put up with my lot, even though at times that is soul destroying. Sometimes it’s difficult to keep a perspective, given that my day usually goes like this:
Wake up. Feed baby. Give lots of kisses because I need the strength. Hug wife.
Slowly simmer between the front door and the walk to the train station, thinking about the job, not knowing exactly what I do (my job description, hopelessly out of date, is under review) and where, if any, my next step in the company could be.
Work up to a vigorous simmer as I slide through the revolving door. Gads, I don’t even like these people I work with. The have no moral compass and are willing to lie, cheat, and deal their way through the corporaton. They are smarmy, uncouth and cause much loathing.
Boil at my desk, thinking how I’m doing totally pointless things, not advancing my knowledge or even perhaps contributing anything to the glorious organization. Even my missives towards my manager are treated like a child’s entreaties. I often suspect that they may be waiting me out, unwilling to apply my resource to any meaningful task.
Then, comes the crucial part: what I can do to get me through to lunch.
At lunch, drag things out. Go for a long walk, then visit office chums. Complain. Think of things that would get me through to 5pm. Usually involving printing novels I want to read (only those under Creative Commons licenses, of course). Bind them, time permitting.
5pm. Leave. Think of my beautiful boy and lovely wife and how the nights are too short and that the whole charade has to be repeated tomorrow.